


Miracles in Middle-Earth

by Hobbity



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Dwarves are very tough and heal very fast, Eventual Fluff, Everybody Lives, F/M, Family Fluff, Fili is brooding, Fix-It, Fluff, Fíli and Kíli Brotherly Love, Good Big Brother Fíli, Improbable healing, Kili is sweet, Kíli/Tauriel Fluff, M/M, Non-canonical magic, Oblivious Bilbo, Parent Thranduil, Post-Battle of Five Armies, Protective Bilbo, Protective Legolas, Protective Thorin, Radagast is awesome, Thorin Feels, Thorin is a Softie, Uncle Thorin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-04-04 10:34:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 32,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4134270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hobbity/pseuds/Hobbity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Battle of the Five Armies, the (direct) line of Durin seems to be erased. But miracles do happen and dwarves survive their certain death. And their new lease on life brings surprising developments in their love lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Elven Magic

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [There can be Miracles](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/121137) by Club der Teufelinnen. 



> This is a translation of a story I wrote with my friend Yamica in German (our native language). Just for fun, I decided to translate it into English. We started this after we saw "The Battle of the Five Armies" in the cinema. Of course we knew that our darlings would die and planned to write a fix-it even before then. I sort of like Tauriel so I convinced her to mix slash with het. Hope you enjoy!

The cold that gripped the insides of the young elf on top of the Raven Hill had nothing to do with the weather. Tauriel hardly acknowledged her king’s presence as she wept over the body of the fallen young dwarf.

“I want to bury him,” Tauriel repeated, addressing Kíli’s body rather than Thranduil. Why hadn’t she followed Kíli to the mountain, as he invited her to? She could have had at least some time with him.

She petted Kíli’s stubbly cheek, too upset to think straight. He couldn’t be dead. Kíli, the cheeky dwarf, couldn’t just die. She bent down again to kiss him for the second time. This time, she felt a weak puff of air. “My lord …” She sat up with a start. “He is alive.”

Thranduil closed his eyes as if in pain. “Not for long. He is on his way to the halls of waiting. Life is leaving him.”

“NO!” Tauriel didn’t know who she was screaming at. Aulë. Mandros. Thranduil. Kíli. Anyone. Kíli’s death was not an option.

He would live. No matter what it cost her or anyone else. “No,” she repeated. An eerie calm spread through her. “We will save him.” She turned to Thranduil again. “

My lord, you can save him. I am sure of it.”

 

The elven king took a deep breath. “What are you asking of me? How do you expect me to save him?”

“It is said that you …” Tauriel bit her lips. Just in time. She had heard that Thranduil had nearly succeeded in saving his wife back then. “I do not know,” she replied, “but I am certain you know how to save him. I will do anything in my power to save him. Anything.”

The king kneeled down in front of her. His eyes, for once, were full of compassion and pain.

“You _can_ do it. Share your life with him. Reach inside yourself and share yourself with the dwarf. It might just be enough ... …”

Tauriel took a deep breath when honest hope replaced desperation. “How?”

“I will assist you,” Thranduil gave her his hand. Words began to form in Tauriel’s mind. She touched Kíli’s cheek and closed her eyes. As in trance she spoke the words the Sindar king put into her head. She felt how energy flowed from her to Kíli. The dwarf grew stronger, while it became harder for her to remain in trance and to speak.

Her words dwindled to a faint whisper. She wanted to give Kíli all the life energy she could, all if she had to, but her body began to fight her. It was almost done, she could sense it. Then she fainted.

 

She had failed. She had failed Kíli. He had sacrificed himself for her, but she hadn’t been able to do the same for him. She slowly realised that Thranduil slapped her face and swallowed.

“My lord …” she managed. “I ….” She looked at Kíli, whose hand she was still holding.

There was a faint pulse. He felt stronger. Could Thranduil have .... She shook her head, still trying to make sense of her surroundings. Thranduil didn't give her time to gather her wits.

“Get up,” he ordered and slid his arms under Kíli’s body to lift him up. “He cannot remain here. The wound is still dangerous and has to be treated.”

“My lord.” Tauriel scrambled to stand up. She had to be delirious. Her king would not lift a dwarf up to deliver him personally to a healer. As if it was the most natural thing in the world for him. And – Kíli’s wound was dressed. Thranduil must have done so himself, there was no one else here to do so.

"Will he …. Will he live?”

She didn't receive an answer. Thranduil started to walk down without sparing her another look.

That was more like him. Maybe she wasn’t delirious. In a rare display of humility, she lowered her eyes and followed. One misstep on her side and he would abandon Kíli. She was sure of it. Thranduil was unpredictable. Something made him help his (former?) Captain of the Guard. But the impulse might not last.

 

Both elves did not even consider the remaining dwarves. They walked towards the elven army, which had gathered near Dale. Some were tending the wounded, others were gathering the horses and their supplies. Warriors still came out of Dale, carrying the dead. 

As the wood elves saw their king approach, they stood ready to receive him. Some betrayed only minute surprise when they saw a dwarf in the king's arms. Others forgot themselves and stared open mouthed at the spectacle. Nothing in Thranduil's mien or stance acknowledged that he was doing something extra-ordinary. He ordered one captain to hand a horse to Tauriel. 

Once Tauriel had mounted the horse, Thranduil handed Kíli to her. Only then he addressed the assembled officers. 

“We make for the Mirkwood. Take the fallen and prepare the wounded for transport”, he instructed them. 

They scrambled to fulfil his rather eccentric order. It would be much more convenient to bury the dead here and erect tents to treat the wounded. 

Tauriel didn't care about their confusion. She held Kíli close with one arm. He was much heavier than his size would lead an elf to assume. 

“Kíli, stay strong,” she whispered. 

When Thranduil had commandeered a horse for himself too and rode off, she followed him.

The way back to the Mirkwood seemed to be endless. On the way there, she and Legolas had been on foot. Yet it had seemed so much faster. Two times she had to stop when Kíli started bleeding again. To her surprise, Thranduil stopped the small train both times. Without being bid, one of her fellow guards helped her to stem the flow of Kíli’s blood and redress his wound.

 

She allowed herself to relax slightly when they crossed the border to Mirkwood. On the East side, the darkness had not yet taken a firm hold. This was home.

She smiled down at Kíli and caressed his cheek. Compared to other dwarves, his “beard” was short. Tauriel had never felt anything like it in all her years.

When they approached the quarters of the healers, she pulled her hand away again and focussed. Her face showed no emotion, as always when she was on duty. Once they were there, she rode up to the nearest healer and handed Kíli to him.

“King’s order”, she said roughly, before anyone could ask any question. The other elves approached with their own wounded. Nobody had time to question why the king would bring a dwarf into his kingdom to be healed.

 

One of the healers took a good look at Kíli and then looked at Tauriel in surprise.

“Do dwarves send their children into battle now?”

Tauriel had been just about to leave, but turned. 

“A child? He is one of the best warriors the dwarves have, not a child.”

The healer looked at Kíli again. “His beard is so short; he cannot yet have reached one hundred.”

“My knowledge about dwarves is limited,” Tauriel replied with a calm she didn't feel. 

*A child? Not yet a hundred years?* That was young indeed. Too young? She shoved that thought away.

She was unaware what Thranduil’s plans for Kíli were and if she was allowed to divulge his identity. Resisting the urge to caress his cheek again, she went to look for the king. He had been displeased with her recently. Now that Kíli’s life was at stake she needed to make sure to get on his best side.

 

Thranduil was already back on his throne. He just instructed his advisers that as soon as they could spare the elves, supplies would be sent to Erebor and Dale. Men and dwarves would continue to require assistance. Tauriel remained in the background. She was young enough to wonder about the changing moods of her monarch. The talk about Erebor and dwarves gave her a sudden pang though. Kíli’s companions! Did anyone inform them about Kíli’s fate?


	2. Eagles

The Battle of the Five Armies was in full swing. Dwarves were fighting fiercely. But the young crown prince lay motionless at the foot of the tower he was thrown down from. Unbeknownst to those grieving him as they fought, there was hope for Fíli yet.

The sharp eyes of an eagle had spotted the fall of the heir of Durin. Orcs, dwarves and elves fighting on the hill had their own battles to concentrate on. They didn't notice one eagle swooping down to pick the young dwarf up. The same dwarf it had rescued just weeks before.

 

The first thing Fíli noticed when he woke up was the earthy smell of damp wood and moss. That didn’t seem right. He couldn’t remember why, but it was not right. He felt some sort of quilt under his hands. He was on a bed then? Something tight was around his torso. It hurt. But somebody had dressed a wound he had sustained. Good. Or maybe not. He tried to mentally check his body. His head hurt. His arms seemed okay. No pain. His middle gave a dull throb of pain. He tried to feel his legs. Nothing. Deep breath. Panicking was bad. He didn’t know where he was or what happened. Panic wouldn’t help. First he needed to find out what was going on. His eyes hurt, but he forced them open. They were greeted by a rough wooden ceiling once they had focused. Various nests clung to it. Also wrong. He didn’t know why, but it was wrong. When he managed to turn his head to the side, he blinked. Something seemed to be wrong with his head still. There was no way anyone would built a house with walls going in all directions, was there? When he moved his head further his vision was filled with a tall man busying himself at a rough table.

 

Radagast turned away from the owl, whose wound he had just dressed, once he noticed that the dwarf had woken up. He beamed. “Welcome, welcome.”

He ambled over to the dwarf and patted the dressing on his back, still smiling. 

“Very good, very good. This looks very good.” 

He turned around to the owl again, checking it for further injuries. Then he suddenly turned around again and asked "How are you feeling, young dwarf?”

“Feeling?” Fíli blinked. He tried to make sense of this but failed. “Where …. Where am I?”

“In safety, you’re in safety.” Radagast shook his head, considering the matter. “For the moment,” he added, then he smiled again. He was a bit insecure. His guests were usually animals or Beorn.

He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with a dwarf, apart from healing him. He had a vague idea about hospitality among mortals. 

“Welcome to my humble abode.”

Fíli nodded weakly. “Thank you. And who …. who are you?”

“Radagast.” He paused. “At your service?” 

He wasn’t quite sure if that was the right phrase for this situation. 

“I met you in Gandalf’s company not too long ago, near Rivendell.” 

He smiled again. Did Gandalf mention the names of the dwarves? If he did, he forgot them all apart from Thorin. And this wasn’t Thorin.

Fíli drew his eyebrows together. “Who … is Gandalf?”

“Uh-oh.” Radagast bent forward to look into Fíli’s eyes, then he put his hands on Fíli’s head. He shook his own and made vague dissatisfied noises. Then he remembered, that this patient could actually speak. 

“Do you know your name?”

“My name … my name is … I am …” Fíli’s eyes widened. He was starting to panic. It couldn’t be that hard to remember one’s own name. It shouldn’t.

“Well ….” Radagast was smiling vaguely again. “That is not important at the moment.”

After a last look at the dressed wound he nodded. “You shouldn’t eat yet, but I’m sure I have a nice little potion somewhere.” He began rummaging in a cupboard.

“What happened?” Fíli asked him with a shaky voice and tried to sit up. He made a pained noise and Radagast rushed to his side, to help him lay down again.

“Don’t move. I wasn’t there when you were wounded, but it appears that you were run through with a sword, young dwarf.”

“My legs …. I can’t move them!”

“That is not good.” Radagast shook his head again. His bushy eyebrows wiggled as he tried to figure out the problem. He mumbled something and turned away. He remembered again that this was a being that could speak. He sighed and turned around.

“I don’t think the damage is permanent, it might heal given time.” He paused and looked around rather vaguely. “I will finish looking after the wounded animals. Then I will brew something to quicken the healing process.”

 

Fíli settled on the bed as comfortably as he could, swallowing convulsively. His head was hurting and he couldn’t remember anything. He didn’t know what happened, he didn’t know his name or who he was and where he came from. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, his body refused to cooperate. One of the few things he was sure about was, that this had not been the case before. The only bright side was that this strange person didn’t appear to have bad intentions.

 

It took a while until Radagast was back. His shed and the space around his shed was filled with wounded animals. It nearly broke Radagast’s heart to see his friends suffering.

He hoped that Beorn would be back soon. When they had left the battlefield, the big bear was pursuing the last fleeing orcs. But Beorn would be back and help him. Sadly, the man was not fond of dwarves. Radagast sighed again when he looked at his oddest patient.

“Refreshment,” he proclaimed a propos of nothing. “Young dwarf, are you strong enough to take some broth?”

“I don’t know … I suppose I am?” Fíli looked around. “Why are there so many wounded animals here?”

Chagrined, Radagast took in the state of shed, as he put together an answer. “They’re my friends. They were wounded in the same battle as you were.”

“A battle? Why were animals in a battle?”

“That’s a good question, a very good question.” 

Radagast was distraught by all the suffering around him. He pulled himself together and for a short time his gaze was focused. 

“Evil is gaining strength. Middle-Earth is in grave danger. Every being must stand up against the forces of evil.”

Fíli looked around sceptically.

“But those are forest animals, not animals bred for battle.”

“Yes.” Radagast had sunk back again and waggled his head again. “But even the smallest …” he gently prodded the nose of a little mouse on his shoulder, “can make a difference. Without the animals your mountain would have been lost.”

“Our mountain?” Fíli glanced down at his side, where a squirrel had settled and cuddled against him.

“Erebor. The Lonely Mountain?” Radagast felt better now that he saw his little friends accepting the dwarf. “You were part of a company of dwarves which were led there by Gandalf to free the mountain from the dragon.” 

He looked at the dwarf, but this didn’t seem to trigger any memories. Radagast sighed.

“It’s a long story. And I can’t tell you how the other dwarves fared.”

Fíli nodded, closing his eyes again. He was too exhausted to worry about that now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Highly unlikely of course, but we felt that after Fili was so neglected in the films, particularly in the third one, he deserved a dramatic rescue.


	3. Grieving

Bilbo couldn’t stem the flow of his tears when Thorin closed his eyes. He couldn’t accept that this proud and beautiful king was dead. When the hobbit lifted his head, he felt as if he was part of another world. He could hear the distant noises of the battlefield, but up here, the battle was over. An eerie quiet had settled over the field of ice. The muffled sounds from the battles just underlined the silence on the hill.

As if in a dream, Bilbo spotted a tall figure approaching the top of the hill.

“GANDALF!” he shouted desperately. “Over here! It’s Thorin! You have got to save him!”

Thorin was not dead yet. There had to be a way to save him. There just had to.

 

Gandalf hurried to them and knelt next to Thorin. The Istari put one hand on Thorin’s face and the other on the terrible wound in his stomach. Bilbo remained glued to his side. He vented his anguish by berating the unconscious king.

“Thorin. You got your blasted mountain back. This is not the time to die!” His words might have been more convincing, had he not choked on them. “Come back, you pig-headed dwarf.”

Thorin gasped and coughed. Blood had seeped into his lungs, which his body tried to expel.

Bilbo jumped back in surprise, then he helped Gandalf to roll Thorin to his side to cough out as much as he could. He patted Thorin’s back awkwardly, as if the dwarf only suffered a cold.

“Very good, Thorin, that’s the thing,” he mumbled feeling foolish but elated.

Gandalf didn’t leave him much time. “Bilbo – go and get a litter and some dwarves with enough strength left to carry him. We have to get him away from here.”

“Yes, at once Gandalf.” Bilbo scrambled to get up again, which wasn’t that easy on the ice. Up here there were neither dwarves nor litters. He looked down at the battlefield.

What he saw there nearly brought him to his knees again in relief. The battle was over, the orcs were running away. He started running down as fast as he could. Halfway down he collided with Dwalin’s broad chest. The old warrior was making his way back up.

Not far down, he saw the rest of the company following. Bilbo waved his arms and screamed at the top of his lungs. 

“Quick! We need a litter! Thorin is gravely wounded!”

Dwalin stared open-mouthed, then he crushed Bilbo into a hug that made Bilbo grit his teeth.

“He’s alive? I didn't dare to hope! Alive?!”

“Yes, yes, he’s alive,” he gasped. “Gandalf needs a litter and dwarves to carry him down.”

Dwalin barked the appropriate commands.

 

As Bilbo stood next to Thorin again, he felt empty. Thorin was alive. And he had forgiven Bilbo. Yet Bilbo had never felt so lost before, not even when Thorin was in the grip of the gold sickness.

The dwarves of the company did not leave him to mope alone. Ori and Bofur stood by him, until Balin ordered them to search the area for Thorin’s heirs. The young dwarves had to be somewhere. The idea that orcs could have taken them was unthinkable. Orcs just couldn’t have the bodies to defile them. They needed to find them, even if it was only for Thorin’s peace of mind.

 

Bilbo found more dead orcs and body parts of orcs than he appreciated, but there was no sign of Kíli or Fíli. He remembered where Azog had dropped the blond prince, like a doll. But there was only a small smear of blood at the bottom of the tower. A small pool of red blood at the back of the tower told them that someone who was not an orc had been wounded here. That was all.

Grief about the cheerful yet determined young dwarves replaced Bilbo’s earlier joy. Their disappearance and the orc bodies were a harsh reminder of the reality of the dreadful battle.

 

While Gandalf had saved Thorin, Thranduil had assisted Tauriel in saving Kíli’s life. The path they took was close to the dwarves. But both had passed each other unnoticed. Nor did anyone think to look up when the eagles left and Fíli passed over them unseen.

 

The companions who had been searching for Fíli and Kíli returned to Erebor when darkness fell. Those that had come earlier gave them some bread. Then Balin led Bilbo to Thorin.

The king had been carried into a chamber in the royal wing of Erebor. Thorin had occupied it only briefly in the days before the siege. He had rarely spent time away from the gold. Somebody had cleaned the room in haste, but it was far from the clean sick-rooms in the Shire. The sturdy bed was magnificent, but the sheets on it were threadbare. The fur that half-covered the king's body was moth-eaten. But it moved with every breath Thorin took, proving that he was alive. And that was all that mattered.

“Thorin?” Bilbo asked quietly, hoping the other could hear him. It didn’t look like it at first, but then the dwarf drew his eyebrows together and blinked. Bilbo’s smile could have lit a dark room.

“Thorin?” He rushed to the king and grabbed his arm. “Thorin.”

“Bilbo …. Little master burglar,” Thorin whispered. His voice was merely an echo of his usual baritone.

Bilbo chuckled. “Thorin. I am so happy that you are alive.”

“We’ve won …. And you're among those we have to thank for it.”

“Well, um …” Bilbo moved his head from side to side in embarrassment. “A bit. Perhaps. So many contributed to our victory. Like you. Um.”

“I need a few days …. Then I will be ready to take charge of the renovation and the rebuilding … and … and the obsequies.” 

Thorin swallowed hard and closed his eyes.

“They …. told you?” Bilbo bit his lips.

“I have seen him fall, Bilbo.”

The words were forced out of the king's mouth. His hands clenched into impotent fists.

“Yes.” Bilbo paused. _/Him/_. Thorin was unaware of Kíli’s fate.

“Yes,” he repeated. Thorin took a deep breath. He opened his eyes again. The deep blue seemed dulled.

“His mother …. will be distraught. Our little lion. And Kíli. Kíli has never been without him. Never without Fíli.”

“Um, yes ….” Bilbo looked around. Where were the wise old dwarves? Why did nobody tell Thorin? Should he do it? Or not? Thorin continued, his words rushing out.

“You have to help him, Bilbo. Be his friend. He needs all the friends he can get. Can you do that?”

“I ….” Bilbo looked down at his hands. Still no dwarf in the vicinity. “Yes, I …” He stopped. He already lied to Thorin about the Arkenstone. For a good reason, but still. “Thorin,” he said, his voice firm. “Kíli and Fíli are together.”

Thorin blinked. “Together?”

“In the Halls of Waiting.” The hobbit squeezed Thorin’s shoulder helplessly. “I am so sorry, Thorin.”

“No!” Thorin’s eyes were wide open now and his breath quickened alarmingly. “No! You lie!"

Bilbo shouted for Balin and Oín. Thorin was too agitated. He tried to lunge at Bilbo, but fell down again onto the bed.

_“NO!”_ he shouted again. He tried again and again to get up. Bilbo did his best to restrain him.

 

The old dwarves came running and Oín took care of the king as well as he could. He even gave him a hastily brewed potion to relax, so he wouldn’t injure himself any further. 

Bilbo watched him, his face red. This was his fault. Who would do something like that, kicking a dwarf while he was down?

“What happened?” Balin asked, and squeezed Bilbo’s shoulder, mirroring Bilbo’s earlier action with Thorin. 

Bilbo forced himself to smile at the kind old dwarf. “He …. He asked me to look after Kíli. So I told him.” He looked away and bit his lip. Balin sighed.

“We still don’t know what exactly happened to him, we only know that he has disappeared.”

Bilbo nodded. “Yes.”

He didn't add that this could only mean one thing. Even those dwarves, elves and men who had pursued the fleeing orcs, had returned by now. No Kíli. And no message from the camps of men about a wounded dwarf. (Dain’s dwarves were tended to in the mountain. Kíli was not among them.)

“We will find the lads and they will get the burial they deserve. If they are both fallen.”

Bilbo’s lips twitched and he smiled crookedly. He felt so very, very tired. “Yes, we will”, he mumbled without conviction.

“Go and rest. We will take care of Thorin.”

“He is asleep,” Oín broke into their conversation. “The wound had reopened when he moved but it is under control. Our king just needs his rest now.”

Bilbo nodded. Rest, and no hobbit to make things worse. Balin interpreted his gesture differently. “You can sleep here if you don’t want to leave him alone, Bilbo.”

“No, no.” Bilbo paused. “Who is going to be with him tonight?”

“We will take turns in looking in, why?”

“Somebody has to stay. He will wake up at some point and he will have questions.”

“Questions that none of us have an answer to.” Balin sighed and nodded in resignation.

Bilbo sighed too. “I would stay. But I am afraid I would just make matters worse again. He needs a wise old dwarf at his side.” 

Balin smiled. “So that’s settled. We will take turns. If something happens, we can wake each other up.”

Bilbo wanted to protest, but then he gave in. Balin would be close by and he didn’t want to leave Thorin alone in this situation. They managed to set up a make-shift bed in Thorin’s room and another in an adjacent chamber.

 

Balin took over first watch, as Bilbo was by now barely able to keep his eyes open. Balin shook him awake a few hours later. Bilbo padded over to Thorin’s chamber and sat down next to the king. If he would lay down, he would be fast asleep again. Thorin looked peaceful and took deep, slow breaths. 

Bilbo swept a few stray hairs from Thorin’s sweaty brow. He had overcome his gold sickness. It wasn’t that many hours ago that he would cheerfully have sacrificed his nephews for gold. Bilbo felt bad because he preferred this broken Thorin to the paranoid, ruthless, proud king from the day before. But after this loss Bilbo couldn’t just leave Thorin.

 

Despite his good intentions, Bilbo fell asleep sitting next to Thorin. His hand remained on Thorin’s head. He thus didn’t notice when Thorin woke up and looked up to see the little hobbit sitting at his side.

“Thorin?” Bilbo murmured, still half asleep. Thorin turned his head towards Bilbo and stretched his hand towards Bilbo. The movement woke Bilbo up and he blinked a few times to wake himself. He looked at Thorin’s hand in some confusion, but took it instinctively.

“You’re still here,” Thorin whispered sounding surprised.

“Where else would I be?”

“I was so mean to you.”

Bilbo chuckled to hide his nervousness, but he was also concerned. This didn’t sound like Thorin at all. Mean?

“It’s all forgiven and forgotten, Thorin.”

“Thank you,” the dwarf choked out.

The hobbit patted his hand in an awkward gesture. “Water under the bridge,” he confirmed. “How are you?”

“Incomplete …”

Silence descended. Bilbo couldn’t think of anything to say in response. Then he finally remembered Balin’s desperate hope. Should he talk about this with Thorin now?

He decided to remain quiet for now and to squeeze Thorin’s hand. It felt disrespectful towards the proud king. But then again, at the moment Thorin was just like any grieving uncle who had lost the nephews he had loved as sons. And he clung to Bilbo’s hand as if it was his lifeline. 


	4. Tauriel's Dwarf

Tauriel was watching over another dark-haired dwarf, who was sleeping on a bed far too big for him. He looked indeed like a child.

Thranduil had been in a foul mood. He had lost many of his warriors, and his son had gone wandering. The old elven king had seen worse battles, but he would never take a battle or the loss of elvish lives lightly. Arrogant he may be, but he cared deeply about his people. Every lost life was a further wound in his mind.

Tauriel had asked him timidly if she should divulge Kíli’s identity or keep it secret. Her king had retorted that he didn’t care what she did. He only desired her to leave him alone.

She had thus returned, to the surprise of the healers. They led her to the Kíli's room. It had two beds, but it was deemed inappropriate to have elves room with dwarves. Thranduil's Halls were spacious so that none of the wounded elves needed the other bed. 

That suited Tauriel just fine. The healer who had been looking after Kíli had also been glad to be dismissed. Many elves needed attention as well, so if the Captain of the guard wanted to take care of the dwarf, the healers were happy to allow it. Tauriel had been sitting there for hours now, but couldn’t find rest as she held Kíli's hand. Soft starlight trickled into the room from the small window in the ceiling.

Just when Tauriel had sagged a little and nearly succumbed to sleep, Kíli’s finger moved. It was the first sign that the dwarf was waking up. Tauriel jolted awake again. After a moment she gently pressed his hand. “Kíli?”

“Hnn ….” Kíli groaned but his eyelids fluttered.

“Be calm,” she whispered and lifted her free hand to caress his cheek. “You are safe here.”

“Tauriel.” His voice was a croak. His eyelids fluttered. When he opened his eyes, he tried to focus on Tauriel. She smiled. He was weak, sure, but he looked healthier than he had in Esgaroth. And he had escaped a certain death for the second time. “Kíli.”

“Where …. Where are we?“

“In Thranduil’s realm.”

“Where are the others? Where is …. Fíli? My brother?” Kíli choked, as he remembered his brother’s fate.

Tauriel lowered her eyes. “We have left the mountain as soon as the battle was over. I have heard rumours, but I know nothing certain about your companions’ fate. I am truly sorry.”

To be honest, she had not considered them at all, while Kíli’s life was in danger.

“My brother.” A whine escaped Kíli. “Azog … he … he killed him. Fíli ….” He broke off and struggled to sit.

“That is what I have heard,” she confirmed softly, and gently pushed him back to lay on his back. He offered no resistance.

His lower lip trembled and tears formed in his eyes. Tauriel wiped them away with the soft pad of her thumb. Mourning was familiar to her, as it was to all elves. Kíli was young, though. Had he been an elf, she would have known which words to choose. But a dwarf … their cultures were different.

Words that might console an elf might anger a dwarf. So she remained silent and just caressed his face. After a while, Kíli wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her side. He was no longer even trying to hold back his tears. She moved her hands over his shoulders and back, caressing his neck from time to time.

Elvish elegies rose up outside their chamber, reminding her that not only the dwarf in her arms had suffered loss. Some of the fallen must be elves that she had served with for centuries. Maybe even some of those she called friends. She joined the songs and pulled Kíli a little bit closer. While the elves were still singing, Kíli calmed down and fell asleep in her arms.

 

Kíli was lethargic in the days following the battle. His wounds closed under the care of the elves, but the loss of his brother overwhelmed his mind. Tauriel spent every minute she could spare with the young dwarf. She slept on the chair next to Kíli’s bed or, if she was too exhausted to do that, on the second bed.

The other elves started to notice that she didn’t sleep in her room anymore, but in the room of the young dwarf. Rumour had it, that this dwarf was actually one of Thorin’s heirs. She ignored all questions. Her focus was on Kíli and her desperate hope for a spark of his temper to return.

He refused all food after his second day in Thranduil’s Halls and only drank some tea and broth. She began to be afraid that dwarves, like elves, faded when their losses became too heavy for them to bear. And that she would lose Kíli despite everything

 

After suffering through four days of this, she sat down next to him with a bowl of oatmeal. She was determined to stop Kíli from fading, if that was, what he was doing.

“Kíli, you’re a dwarf,” she reminded him. “You are tough. And your uncle will need you.”

“If he’s still alive …. Azog was after him.”

“We haven’t had word that the king under the mountain died, so in all likelihood he is alive. And what about your mother? I remember a cheeky young dwarf who showed me his rune stone, not too far from here. A stone for him to remember his promise.”

Said stone was now on the table beside Kíli’s bed. Kíli refused to look at it.

“And how can I tell my mother that her firstborn is gone?”

“How can anyone tell her that she lost both her sons in the battle?” She put the stone in his limp hand. “Do not make her mourn two sons, her only sons, Kíli.”

The dwarf finally looked at her, his big eyes filled with sadness. The cheeky twinkle was extinguished. Tauriel sighed. She knew how hard this was for Kíli. She held up the bowl with oatmeal again. 

“Here, try to eat a little. We need you to maintain your weight.”

Kíli gave her a wan smile. “I'm not a skinny elf. I’ve got some reserves.”

“Dwarves need more food than us, though, and I don’t think you are big for a dwarf.” She looked at the bowl, as if could help her. “Please Kíli. I already had to watch you die twice. I could bring you back those two times, but I don’t know what to do now. Please eat. Just a little.”

Kíli bit his lip and struggled to sit up. His attempt was foiled when his strength left him. Tauriel, ever the graceful elf, set the bowl aside and propped him up. “Are you in pain?”

“It hurts a little,” Kíli admitted and pressed his hand against his bandages. Tauriel guessed that this was an understatement, and she pushed his hand away to check on the wound. To her relief she found no fresh blood. Kíli looked down and scowled.

“Oh Mahal, why did they shave my hair off when they put me back together? It’s not like I had that much to begin with ….”

Tauriel couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped her. The healers had been less than pleased about a patient with chest hair. They knew from head wounds that hair should not be anywhere near an open wound and had thus shaved him.

“I assume that it will grow back?”

“Well, yes, eventually,” he grudgingly admitted. “Until then I’ll look like a sheep that has been shorn by a drunk.”

“You still have too much hair for that.”

“As long as you like me anyway.” Kíli shrugged in defeat.

The Silvan elf beamed. “Of course I do.”

Kíli nodded and finally grabbed his bowl. Once he had swallowed down three spoonful of gruel, he stopped again. Tauriel noted it with some renewed concern.

“Are you feeling sick?”

“No, just full. It’s not like I’m doing anything apart from lying around.”

“We could remedy that once you eat a bit more. That’s hardly enough to keep an elf child going, and certainly not enough for a grown dwarf, bed rest or not.”

Kíli shoved another spoonful in his mouth but barely managed to swallow. Tauriel was unsure how bad that was for dwarves or what would be normal. She sighed as she took the bowl away from him. Maybe they would have some broth for Kíli in the kitchen.

“Do you want to try to get up?”

“Yeah …. I need the loo, anyway.”

She helped him up and relished the feeling of his warm body. The situation was as prosaic as it could be, but she was grateful for every little thing she could get. Kíli clung to her and they crossed the room slowly. Not all the rooms in the healers’ quarters had their own private bathroom. It had been tacitly assumed that it would be better not to have the dwarf share with elves.

Most Silvan elves were not hostile towards dwarves, but they had little contact with other races in general. And, of course, very recently there had nearly been a war between them.

Tauriel was grateful for the privacy at the moment, and the fact that it wasn’t far, as Kíli was still weak. When Kíli emerged again, she smiled and offered her arm again. They had only walked a few steps, when Kíli faltered.

“Kíli? What is it?”

"Dizzy …”

“So it wasn’t enough food," she diagnosed. Kíli was heavier than he looked, but she could support him with ease. “Should I carry you?”

“No, it’s all right. I’ll manage.”

"Are you sure?”

Kíli put one foot forward but stumbled. Tauriel barely managed to catch him this time. “I should carry you.”

“You’re a woman. I should carry you.” Kíli pouted but didn’t resist any more when she lifted him carefully.

“Don’t be silly, I am a captain of the guard, I can carry one dwarf. And this particular dwarf is ill.”

He chuckled unexpectedly.

“And he enjoys being close to his beloved.” Kíli wrapped one arm around her neck and rested his head against her neck.

‘His beloved’ nearly dropped him in shock. This was the first time he had flirted since he had arrived. She didn’t know what to answer, so she just put him onto the bed. As he clung on, she had to kneel in front of it, but she smiled, putting her arms around him as well. Kíli’s huge dark eyes were shining with hope.

“Lay down with me?”

A blush spread over Tauriel’s cheeks before she could stop it. She looked at Kíli’s chest, in the futile hope that he wouldn’t notice her confusion. Then she came to a decision and slid onto the bed next to him.

They only embraced loosely and Tauriel just relished in the feeling of being close to him. Of course she had slept next to plenty of fellow guards in her life, but the experience of sharing a bed with someone she was attracted to had eluded her so far. She lifted her hand to caress Kíli’s scruffy cheek.

He was awake now and nuzzled against her hand, clearly enjoying it just as much as Tauriel. She let her hand glide up to one of his big, round ears. They were so unlike elvish ears and she touched it curiously. It twitched. She couldn’t suppress her worry though, so she looked back into his eyes.

“Are you feeling a bit better?”

He gave a lopsided grin.

“I feel weak and depleted, but alive.”

She put two fingers on the pulse in his neck, subconsciously checking the veracity of this statement. To hide her silliness she smiled again.

“We will restore your power. I will have to talk with the healers and the kitchen about feeding you, though.”

“Feeding me? I’ll eat anything that you give me.”

The barely touched bowl of oatmeal belied his words and Tauriel arched her eyebrows. He grinned weakly.

“Meat and potatoes maybe?”

“And how is a dwarf, who can’t stomach oatmeal, going to digest that?”

“Tomorrow will be better," he claimed. Tauriel chuckled at his youthful confidence.

“We can manage some potatoes, I believe, but I don’t think there is much meat in store. You’ve seen what most of the forest looks like, we don’t hunt as much as they did in my parents’ days.”

To reconcile him with that fate, she combed her fingers through his hair. Sure enough, the dwarf soon succumbed to her caresses and he was fast asleep. The dreams brought memories, memories of his brother’s death.

Tauriel noticed that Kíli grew restless again, but she could barely manage to stay awake herself. The last few days if not weeks had been exhausting. Worry about Kíli had kept her up. Now that she was in his bed, feeling his warmth and his breath, she fell asleep just moments after him.


	5. What do to with Fíli

Further south in the Mirkwood Radagast was watching a sleeping blond dwarf. The little squirrel that had befriended him on the first day cuddled close to him. He was still on Radagast’s bed. The Istari didn’t mind. The floor served him fine.

Beorn had stopped by on his way back home. He might not like dwarves but he had an excellent memory. At least he had remembered the name of the young dwarf. Fíli. So they could stop calling him “young dwarf.” Unfortunately the name did not trigger any of the dwarf's memories. Even the giant stature of Beorn, which should be memorable, seemed unfamiliar to him. He still couldn’t move his legs. Radagast and Beorn were hopeful that this was a temporary condition. His wounds were healing well otherwise.

Radagast remembered that he was standing in front of the dwarf, because he wanted to put some salves on said wounds. He held the little wooden bowl in his hand and sighed. Fíli didn’t wake up when Radagast pushed his tunic up. He just tried to move a bit in his sleep and frowned, presumably because his legs wouldn’t budge. Radagast made some sounds which he hoped were soothing to a dwarf.

“Looks good,” he remarked to himself. Then he pursed his lips. The better Fíli got the more he asked himself what he was supposed to do with him.

He had no idea what to do about the paralysis. He was a master in animal anatomy, but dwarves were foreign to him. He could only assume that it would heal. Dwarves were known to be tough, created by Aulë to withstand the most adverse conditions. But Radagast didn’t know what he could do to assist the healing. Maybe Fíli would never quite recover if he remained here.

The question was, where to bring him. Beorn was out of the question. Who knew where Gandalf was. He had not stopped by in Rhosgobel in any case. Radagast finally remembered that elves were living in the north-east of the forest. Unfortunately, they weren’t friends with dwarves. A sigh escaped him. He would need to ask Fíli what he thought about that particular idea.

 

“Elves? What are elves?”

Radagast, who was sitting in a chair next to the bed, put his face in his hands. That’s why he preferred animals. They didn’t ask questions.

“Elves are elves.” He could hardly recite the entire history of Middle Earth now. “They are …. taller than you. And old. Generally not friends with the dwarves. But Thranduil’s Halls are on the way to Erebor, where the dwarves live again now.”

“And I’d get there how?”

That seemed to be consent. “I will take you.” He shook his head while he was thinking. “The problem is, the rabbit sledge bounces a lot.” He was silent for a moment as he bent closer to Fíli to inspect his wound. “I think that is only possible when your wounds are healed a bit more.”

“And how did I get here?”

“The eagles brought you. But they are too proud to be called to transport you.”

“But you said they were your friends – can’t you ask them?”

Radagast shook his head. “They are too proud. The eagles have as much pride as the dwarves.”

“Do they? Do dwarves have too much pride?”

Radagast cocked his head and wiggled his eyebrows, but couldn’t find words. Maybe this wasn’t a dwarf after all. He knew the words but he didn’t associate them with dwarfish values at all. Radagast laughed. This boy would confuse the elves. He jumped up. 

“Can you sit up?”

“I ….” Fíli used his hands to push himself up, but groaned in pain after a few seconds. Radagast sighed and held him as if he was a wounded deer.

“I can’t transport you yet. We need to practice.”

“Can’t you drug me?”

“Of course I can ….” Radagast shook his head again. “I need to make sure that the transport won’t cause damage your back further, I’m not worried about pain.”

“I am,” Fíli admitted.

“Yes yes yes yes _yes_.” Radagast waved his hand without realising that he didn’t support Fíli anymore. “I am going to brew another potion, and we will see tomorrow.”

Fíli settled down again. The Istari didn’t even seem to notice him anymore. He set to work on a broth (instead of a potion) and pottered around the hut, fussing over several small animals.

After a while two racoons were getting under his feet. He waved them away half-heartedly. It was plain to see that animals were his world. Fíli didn’t get any meat here, but the dwarf never complained. Now he cleared his throat though. That gave Radagast a start, as he had indeed forgotten about the dwarf for a moment.

“Yes?”

“Could I have another quilt? It’s chilly. Or could one of your little friends warm me?”

Radagast beamed. It was easier to deal with Fíli when he was surrounded by animals. He nudged the racoons towards Fíli, while he rummaged through a heap of old stuff in the corner, until he found a quilt. It had seen better years (or possibly better centuries). But together with the animals, it warmed Fíli. The dwarf soon feel asleep again, as Radagast finally set to brewing a potion for him.


	6. Chapter 6

In Erebor, Bilbo and Dwalin were out every day on Thorin’s orders (or rather, fervent requests) to look for the bodies of Fíli and Kíli. During their fruitless search they piled up the smelly bodies of orcs and burnt them. That was at least useful employment.

Meanwhile Gandalf had left the mountain to travel to Rivendell. The events needed to be discussed in the White Council. Most of Dain’s army was returning to the Iron Hills. Dain and some of his dwarves remained, either because they were wounded or helped tend to the wounded. Some stayed because they wished to be useful in the rebuilding of Erebor and bring it back to its former glory. Dain intended to stay until they could honour the dead. Thorin was making progress, and one of the companions was always at his side.

 

On a day they hadn’t even found any orc bodies to burn, Bilbo started to feel useless. He had gone to the Lonely Mountain with the dwarves, as promised. He found the Arkenstone, thus fulfilling his contract. He had given it to Bard, which was not part of his contract. He had helped with the clean-up after the battle, but what should a little hobbit do here now?

The companions seemed to be happy to have him around, but this was their dream, their realm. He belonged in the Shire, like any other hobbit (apart from those odd ones in Bree). He gathered his courage as he approached Thorin’s chamber.

The king was recovering, even if he still didn’t resemble the stern and proud dwarf Bilbo had met in the Shire. Today he would tell him that he would attempt to get back to the Shire. Balin, who was sitting with Thorin, smiled as Bilbo came in. He mumbled something about “seeing to dinner” as he scuffled off. Bilbo smiled nervously.

“Thorin. How are you today?”

“I'm feeling better with every new day. Today I had some cake for dessert.” The dwarf managed to lift the corner of one mouth. “Now that you are here, I'm even better.”

Bilbo scratched his neck in embarrassment and made a noise somewhere between a cough and a laugh.

“Well, err, um … thank you. I hope the cake was good.”

The thought made him perk up. Cake. He could do with some cake today.

“Bombur said you have already baked a cake here? Will you also make one for me?”

“You’ve got so many potential bakers here, I’m sure my humble skills are not needed.” Then he laughed nervously. “Well, I guess I can find the time to make one before I go.”

“Go where? Looking for my boys?”

Bilbo shook his head. The search for Kíli and Fíli had become an obsession. “It’s dark already.”

He scolded himself silently for not finding the courage to tell Thorin that if they hadn’t found the bodies yet, they would never find them. Either orcs had taken them or they had been burnt with orcs by accident.

“It’s time for me to think about returning to the Shire.”

“You mean to leave me?” Thorin gasped in pain and clutched his breast, as Bilbo’s statement made him sit up in shock. “You …. You can’t ….”

Bilbo literally jumped the distance between himself and the bed. He put his hands on Thorin’s shoulders.

“Come on, lay down again. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“You can’t go ….” Thorin repeated, groaning.

Bilbo carefully put him back down on the bed, before he answered. He had silently practised the speech on his way back to the mountain. Luckily, Dwalin wasn’t chatty.

“Thorin, I’m glad I ran after you all those months ago and could live through this with all of you. I’ll never forget this adventure. But this is Erebor, this is your dream. Regaining and rebuilding your home. For Durin’s folk. I'm just a little hobbit. I belong in the Shire.”

“We could build a …. a smial for you here … at the foot of the mountain … with a garden for your acorn.”

Bilbo had to laugh at the picture of a miniature Shire for Bilbo Baggins between Erebor and Dale.

“First, Erebor and Dale need to be rebuilt. That will take years and years. Decades even. And then ….” He sighed. “This just isn’t the Shire.”

“But can’t you wait until I can go with you?”

Bilbo touched Thorin’s forehead to check his temperature. Unfortunately, he had no baseline as he was still ignorant about the normal temperature for dwarves. Thorin’s seemed a bit high, but not high enough for a delirium. Still …

“I will fetch Oín to check on you. You are king under the mountain, Thorin. You certainly won’t travel back to the Shire with me.”

“I can …. Balin can manage the mountain …. I‘d never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

“This is your dream, Thorin. And you made it. Here you are, in Erebor. I could never accept that you leave this just for me.” He tried to laugh but failed. “Don’t worry, I did not plan on travelling alone.

“No, of course not. I will come with you.”

“There are merchants who travel west from here. I can join them.” Bilbo smiled and pressed Thorin’s shoulder to soothe him. “Don’t worry. Our agreement was that I travel here with you. Not that you have to organize my journey home.”

“And if I want to?” Thorin seemed to be sulking now. “I am king. I will forbid anyone to leave if you accompany them.”

“We’ll see,” Bilbo answered as neutrally as possible.

Did Thorin just threaten to make him a virtual prisoner? He must know that Bilbo didn’t want to put Bard in the position to anger Thorin again. Said sulky king looked beseechingly at Bilbo, when he noticed that the hobbit was displeased.

“I will fetch Oín,” Bilbo repeated.

“What for?”

“You seem to be doing worse again, you need something to calm you down. And to lower the fever.”

“You’ve got to stay.”

Bilbo sighed. “I promise not to leave until you’re better, how’s that? I won’t sneak away.”

“Thank you.” Thorin took Bilbo’s hand and squeezed it with surprising strength. Bilbo tried half-heartedly to free himself.

“I really should look for Oín now.”

“There’s nothing he can do.”

This proof of dwarfish stubbornness made Bilbo smile indulgently. “Only to give you a little something to ease your breathing,” he coaxed.

Thorin lessened his grip and groaned lowly. Bilbo took that as a sign that he needed Oín and hurried off.

 

The old healer looked surprised when Bilbo knocked at his door. “Bilbo? Is there something wrong with Thorin?”

“I’m not sure actually. He had trouble breathing when we talked just now. He seems to be doing better now. But it’d ease my mind if you could check on him and give him something to calm down. He might even be in a bit of a delirium, he was talking nonsense.”

“What do you mean?” Oín had already grabbed his little bag.

“Finding Kíli’s and Fíli’s bodies has become an obsession. I think everybody noticed that by now. And …” Bilbo hesitated.

“He announced that he’d accompany me to the Shire. That just doesn’t make any sense. He achieved his dream of reclaiming Erebor. And now he just wants to run off again? It seems so …. un-dwarf-like really.”

Oín straightened and smiled crookedly. “Oh Bilbo, my lad …. Did you tell him you want to go home?”

“Yes. Yes of course. There’s nothing I can do here now. It is time I made sure everything is all right with Bag’s End. Who has ever heard about a hobbit who had left the Shire for so long?”

“You don’t understand him, do you? He's scared that he will have to suffer one more loss. He has already lost so much. Perhaps too much.”

“He has won Erebor,” Bilbo pointed out. “I thought that was more important than anything else to him. More important than Fíli and Kíli or any of you. And certainly more important than me, a little hobbit from the Shire.”

“He was ill Bilbo. He's cured of that illness and now he feels the pain of his losses even more.”

Bilbo nodded. He remembered that evening in Rivendell, when he had overheard the conversation between Gandalf and Elrond. When he learned that madness ran in Thorin’s family. That might actually explain his strange desire to provide the guard for Bilbo on his way back. He wasn’t quite as certain as Oín that Thorin was fully cured.

“I promised him I won’t sneak away. Will you come now?”

 

The king was in his bed just as Bilbo had left him. His lips moved as if in silent prayer. Something would need to be done to give the king some of his pride back, Bilbo decided. Oín ignored that and checked on Thorin’s injuries, then he talked to him in Khuzdul. Thorin answered and Oín nodded. He turned to Bilbo.

“He wants to give something to you.”

“All right?” He approached the two dwarves in some confusion.

“Master burglar.” Thorin smiled weakly and stretched his hand out. Bilbo took it without hesitation. Ever since Thorin had woken up, he seemed to need it. This time though, Thorin pressed something into his palm, something that felt familiar.

“You have kept it safe before. It is your duty know to continue to do so,” Thorin said as he took his hand away to reveal the Arkenstone. It took a moment until Bilbo recognized it, then he froze in shock. Bard shouldn’t have returned it so easily.

“I beg your pardon?” was the only thing he could say. Thorin nodded, his expression serious.

“I trust you with the heart of the mountain.”

“Right.” Bilbo waited for further explanations. “That’s good?”

“The heart of the mountain has to remain in the mountain.”

Of course. That blasted dwarf. Bilbo glared at him but said very politely “I see. I assume it is an honour.”

Thorin nodded and closed his eyes again. “My heart belongs to you now.”

And wasn’t it typical for Thorin to equate his heart with that of the mountain? Either it meant that he recovered or that he was still sick. No matter what it was, Bilbo pulled up his chair to take the first watch over Thorin and Oín retired.


	7. Together Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally some more Kili/Tauriel again :)

Thranduil’s guards were in carefully contained upheaval. Word was brought to Tauriel that something was approaching the gate. Guards had seen leaves fluttering and keen elvish hears picked up the crushing of breaking twigs, the swooshing when bent boughs twanged back into position. They also heard the impact of one heavy object on the ground, as well as little scurrying feet. Tauriel hurried to the entrance, where the doors were hopefully being closed. Everyone knew how graciously Thranduil reacted to unexpected visitors. The description seemed to fit the mad Istari south-west in the forest. He travelled around using a sledge drawn by speedy rabbits. But of course there had just recently been an orc invasion which they noticed too late. Lives were lost that could have been saved had the guards been just a little bit less complacent.

 

When Radagast stopped his rabbits at the bridge, the gates were not fully closed yet. He nimbly jumped off the sledge.

“Halt!” he shouted. “I’ve got an injured dwarf here.”

The elves stopped. One of the guards approached the wizard.

“Why do you deliver an injured dwarf to us. The dwarves dwell in the mountains.”

Radagast shook his head. “The mountain is too far away.”

The guard was still impassive. “Where does this dwarf come from anyway?”

Before the discussion could go any further, Tauriel emerged from the gate. 

“What is going on here?”

The guard pointed to Radagast.

“The Istari arrived with a dwarf.”

“A dwarf?” She seemed unmoved, as if she didn’t spend every free second with a certain dwarf.

“Yes captain. He ...”

Radagast interrupted him. “He is injured and needs help. I have treated him to the best of my abilities, but, well …” 

He bent over his sledge again to fuss with something.

Tauriel walked over to the sledge. She still couldn’t make out the dwarf, Radagast’s body was shielding him. 

This Istari was odd, but harmless. Contrary to Mithrandir or Curunir he wouldn’t cause trouble. She turned to her guard.

“Let them enter and have the dwarf brought to the healers. I will inform the king.” She hesitated a moment and then she added. “Make sure the other dwarf won’t hear of this yet.”

“Shouldn’t they share a room if he is to stay here?” her subordinate asked.

“That decision will be made by the king.” Tauriel turned away. “Provide the Istari with refreshment.”

She could keep her demeanour in front of the guards, but she felt like she was shaking inside.

 

When Tauriel approached Thranduil, he quirked his eyebrows.

“Tauriel. I am told that there is a commotion among the guards. I hope you have everything under control.”

“My lord. Aiwendil has arrived with an injured dwarf. I had him sent to the healers.”

“More dwarves? We seem to be collecting them.” The king sighed. “Why was he brought here and not to Erebor? Find that out. If he can be transported, send him off.”

“Very well. And if he can’t be transported?”

“Then we will have to take care of him until he can. I won’t risk further conflict over one dwarf.”

Tauriel smiled and nodded. “Should he be brought to Kíli?”

“So they can conspire against us and do us harm?”

“Kíli won’t harm us!” Her reaction was more forceful than intended. Thranduil waved his hand as if it could dispel her temper.

“The dwarves are your responsibility then. Do whatever you wish with them.”

Tauriel needed a moment to collect herself, even though she had centuries to get used to the changing moods of the king.

“Yes my lord. I give you my word that nothing bad will come of this. None of the dwarves will do us harm.” She bowed, correctly assuming that she was dismissed.

 

A healer reported to Tauriel, that a journey to the Lonely Mountain would most likely cause permanent injury to the dwarf. He would need to remain in the Mirkwood, if the king did not wish to harm him. Which raised the question of where to put him. Tauriel didn’t want to give up her private space with Kíli. She had already opened her mouth to request a separate room for the stranger. But she closed it again. She was a fair elf and she would consult with her dwarf before she made such a decision.

 

The young dwarf was sleeping when she entered the room. He was still weak and needed much rest. Her rigid posture melted once she had closed the door. He looked so beautiful and so serene.

She walked to the bed and gently pushed the hair from his face.

“Kíli?” 

Kíli blinked and turned towards her.

“Tauriel?” He attempted to smile. She sat down and took his hand. Even though she knew it had nothing to do with her, it hurt to see how unhappy he was. Maybe the news would cheer him up. She steeled herself.

“We have a guest. Aiwendil has brought an injured dwarf to us.”

“A dwarf?” Kíli sat up. “Who brought him? I don’t recognize that name.”

“I assume you call him by a different name, but I don’t know his name in Westron. The Istari who lives in the Mirkwood. I, um, I …” She broke off, embarrassed. This hadn’t happened in decades.

“I haven’t inquired further. The dwarf is still unconscious and he seems to be temporarily paralysed. I have no knowledge about the cause of his injury or how he ended up in the Mirkwood. He can’t be transported in the moment and will remain here.” 

She looked down at her hands, one entwined with Kíli’s.

Kíli put his other hand on top of it and squeezed. “Maybe I can talk to him when he wakes up.”

“Yes.” She posed the question she dreaded. “I am here to ask whether you want him here with you or whether I should arrange for another room.”

“Here? I … is he young or old? Old dwarves snore terribly, you wouldn’t be able to sleep. Oh …. Would you still sleep here?”

He blushed. It looked actually good on him right now, pale as he was. Warmth spread through her veins.

“I’d stay with you. Of course. I didn’t see him, but he looks to be a young and blond.”

“Blond?” Kíli sat up straight, loosening the grip of his hand. She could see the pulse in his neck beating rapidly. “A young blond dwarf? Blond is rare”

Kíli swallowed. His eyes widened but Tauriel couldn’t make out their expression. 

“Please … I have to see him. Bring me to him. Please.”

Tauriel put her arm around him in alarm. “The healers are still busy with him. What is so important?”

“Please! I just have to see him!”

“Can you make it there? We wouldn’t want the healers to be distracted by looking after you.”

“I can do it. The bandages are tight.”

“Just make sure you won’t break down.” Tauriel rose and offered her arm to help him up. “And no matter who he is – remain at my side. He is in a critical condition, it was a mistake to bring him here already.”

Kíli nodded meekly and they made their way out of the room and towards the healing chamber. 

Kíli was only wearing a long tunic as worn by elf children. It nearly reached his ankles. Tauriel walked as straight as she possibly could, proudly ignoring everyone in the hallway. She knew what they were thinking. They didn’t let it show, but she knew how hard it was for the guards who opened the door for them.

 

“I can’t see anything,” Kíli complained, when they had entered the room.

Tauriel put her hand on his shoulder to calm him down. “Dinendal,” she addressed the healer. “How is the dwarf faring?”

“He is still sleeping, but the effect of the draught will abate soon.”

“Our guest, Kíli, would like to see him.”

Dinendal stepped aside. “I cannot see why we should not allow it.”

Tauriel could feel Kíli vibrating in excitement. But the table on which they had treated the stranger was too high for him to see more than a mess of blond hair.

She coughed when she realised the problem. “Do you have a stool?”

“No,” the healer responded irritated. “We generally don’t require one.”

Tauriel bit down an inappropriate laugh and looked down at Kíli again. “Would you mind if I lifted you up?”

“I don’t care. Just do it quickly.” Kíli was attempting to stand on his toes.

Even Radagast appeared interested now to see why the young dwarf was so excited. Tauriel stood behind him and wrapped her arms around his torso to lift him.

Kíli screwed his eyes shut for a moment. Then his eyes grew larger and he had to gasp for air. He began to sob.

Tauriel let him down again, but still held on to him. This close, the dwarf looked familiar.

“Have the dwarf brought into Kíli’s room as soon as he can be moved,” she instructed. Then she turned her full attention to the youngest heir of Durin.

Kíli’s eyes brimmed with tears. His hands were on his chest as he tried to calm himself. The elf was unsure what to do. Her instinct told her to kneel down in front of him to give him a hug. Her pride objected. As a compromise she bent her knees and pulled him closer. 

“Shall we wait in your room?”

“This is Fíli,” Kíli explained, his voice choked. “My brother …. I thought he died … Azog … and then …. I saw him ….”

“I know …” Tauriel mumbled soothingly. She waited for the answer to her question as she caressed his neck.

“Can we stay here? I won’t be in the way!” The dwarf gasped. He wobbled. Tauriel held on to him.

“You suffered a shock. You should go and lay down.” Her words lacked conviction. She knew that would be the most reasonable course of action, but she understood Kíli.

She attempted a smile. “He is alive. And you will share a room with him, I promise.”

“I just sit down against the wall here,” Kíli negotiated.

Tauriel didn't wait for Dinendal's permission. She helped him sit. She was feeling disturbed herself. She had helped Kíli with his grief for days. And now the dwarf he grieved for was here. In bad condition, but definitively alive. She looked over the dwarf at the centre of this commotion.

“Aiwendil,” she finally asked, as she should have done in the first place. “How did the dwarf happen to be in your care and why did you bring him here now?”

“I know much about animals … but not dwarves ….. they’re difficult.” Radagast admitted. “An eagle saved him and brought him to me.”

Tauriel nodded. It sounded so simple, yet it was a miracle. “We are in your debt.”

Radagast waved that away and pointed to Kíli. “That young one is related to him? Very good, maybe he can help him to remember ….”

Tauriel looked at Kíli, who still didn’t seem to be inclined to join the conversation. “What do you mean?” she asked herself. “What can’t he remember?”

“Anything. He can’t remember a thing. He doesn’t know what happened, who he is or even what he is. He has no idea what dwarves or elves are.”

After that revelation, everyone was silent. Even Dinendal seemed stupefied. But it was up to Tauriel again to reply. She nodded resolutely.

“I understand. Let’s hope that Kíli can help him.” Better not to think about what would happen otherwise.

“Well, I hoped you elves would be experienced with this – I thought Lord Elrond was excellent with this sort of injury?”

“Lord Elrond is in Rivendell, but we have excellent healers here.” She smiled at Dinendal who acknowledge the praise with a small nod. “We will do our best.”

“Otherwise my uncle can arrange for him to be brought to Rivendell.” Kíli finally joined the conversation, blithely forgetting the way his uncle had behaved in Rivendell a few weeks earlier. “He's alive, that is all that is important. He's _alive_ …”

“Yes, he is.” She answered his smile and then turned to the healer again. “When can we bring Fíli to the room?”

“I’ll fetch a stretcher and two elves to carry him. He is ready now.”

“Good. We would not want to overwhelm him with too many people in the room. Go and report to the king once you have organized the transport.”

She turned to Radagast. “I am sure the king would appreciate it if you could pay him a visit. You may of course come here again to take your leave of Fíli.”

“Of course, of course …. And I'm sure his little friends will want to do so too ….” The sparrow she hadn’t noticed on his shoulder chirped and a squirrel peered out of tunic. She felt the urge to shake her head, but turned to Kíli.

“Can you get up? We should make space for them to transfer Fíli on the stretcher.”

“Of course ….” Kíli attempted to get up but ended up clutching his chest. Tauriel bend down to pull him up gently.

“Thank you.” Kíli’s smile was a bit forced. “That will be better soon …”

“Of course, once I stop squeezing your injuries.” She felt a bit guilty for the way she had lifted him.

“No, no, don’t worry.” He rubbed over his bandages. “I insisted, I wanted to check if it is Fíli … it’s just that everything is so high here.”

“Of course. Come ….” She put her hand on his lower back to steer him out of the room.

 

Once back in his room, Kíli refused to lay down before Fíli was brought. That took a while, as the elves had to be careful when they put him on the stretcher.

Once they had entered the room with him, Tauriel put her hands on Kíli’s shoulder pre-emptively. She had to stop him from going to his brother until he was safely on the bed. Once they were gone, Kíli hurried to him.

“Can you help me up?” He asked Tauriel, bouncing.

“Up? Where?”

“To Fíli?”

“You want to sleep in his bed? That is not possible.”

“Why not? Could I hurt him?”

“Yes. Remember that he had just had a rough ride here. And then ….” She paused. “You heard Aiwendil. He doesn’t remember anything. Consider what a shock it would be to wake up and have a stranger in your bed.”

“But … I'm no stranger. He's my big brother …. He's got to recognize me!”

She breathed in deeply, then she shook her head sadly.

“We cannot know that, Kíli. Let us hope so, but we will have to wait and see. We may have to give him time.”

Kíli nodded in dejection. Tauriel brought her chair over from Kíli’s bed to Fíli’s, so the younger dwarf could sit down next to his brother.

“I have to leave now, I am still on duty.”

“I just stay here with him until you return.”

“That answers my question about whether you wish for me to return.”

She smiled again and caressed his cheek. That was as far as their physical relationship had progressed. Kíli grabbed her hand to rub against her hand. After a moment Tauriel had to free her hand.

“I am happy that Fíli has been returned to you. I will be back as soon as I can.”

He smiled softly. “Thank you, thank you for everything.”


	8. Amnesia

Shortly after the elf had left the room, Fíli’s eyelids fluttered. A quiet moan escaped him. Kíli was immediately beside him and put his hand on his brother’s. Fíli grimaced and balled his hand to a fist, nearly shaking Kíli’s off.

“Radagast?” he asked, his eyes only half open and still unfocused.

“Radagast is with the king,” Kíli explained and caressed Fíli’s arm.

Over his warm skin on his very much alive body.

Fíli’s eyes shot open. Then he blinked. 

“Who are you?” Fíli asked slowly. His breath was still laboured. He surreptitiously tried to take in the room. 

“Shhh …. Don’t move too much,” Kíli admonished him, as Fíli tried to turn more towards him and then groaned in pain. “I'm happy you are doing so well, considering.”

“And you are?” Fíli repeated.

“I am Kíli.” It was a bit strange to introduce oneself to one’s own brother. Fíli nodded vaguely.

“And where are we? Radagast wanted to bring me to the elves.” He looked at Kíli uncertainly. “Are you an elf?”

“No, I'm a dwarf like you.”

“I see.” Fíli looked at the ceiling and fell quiet.

“You really can’t remember anything?” Kíli asked. He felt his heart sink.

“No. Nothing.” Fíli still refused to look back to Kíli. Kíli wasn’t sure how much he should tell.

“We … we fought in the same battle, for Erebor. And for our king, our uncle.”

It took a moment, then Fíli turned his head back to him. “Our uncle?”

“Yes, our uncle, Thorin.”

“Why our uncle? Are we related?” He frowned, trying to make sense of the information.

“We are, don’t worry, you are not alone.”

“Good to know.” Fíli dared to smile a little bit.

“Hey, you’ve always been there for me. It's time to return the favour, until you're well again.”

“I appreciate it.” Fíli was aware that he was quite rude. Funny how he seemed to have forgotten everything apart from language and a vague sense of manners.

“Radagast said elves and dwarves aren't friends,” he remarked then. He was still trying to make sense of this. Radagast hadn’t expected another dwarf, that much he knew.

“Not quite, no. Thorin and quite a few of the older dwarves hate them. But I think that after this war we might have a fresh start.”

“And that’s why you’re here?”

Kíli shrugged. “No. I was nearly dead and Tauriel saved me. She …. she's the most amazing woman I’ve ever meet. Apart from mam, of course.”

Fíli groaned, both in pain and frustration. “That’s too fast. Who is Tauriel? And your mother?”

“Tauriel's captain of the guards here. She’s an elf.”

“And she saved you.”

“Yes …. I went against an ork who was too powerful for me.”

“We seem to have that in common.”

Kíli swallowed and nodded feebly. The other noticed the reaction with some interest. But all he said was:

“I hope the elves will be able to help me too.”

“They will,” Kíli’s voice was choked now. “You’ve got to get well again.”

A shadow of his habitual smirk flickered across Fíli’s mouth. “I agree.”

“I need you.” Kíli grabbed Fíli’s hand. Fíli looked at him and turned away.

“I'm sorry,” the younger apologized.

“Can we … just not talk for a moment?”

“Sure, no problem, I just shut up then.”

“Thank you.”

Kíli nodded, even though Fíli couldn’t see it. The older dwarf was still looking away. When Fíli closed his eyes, Kíli sunk down in his chair. He felt boneless.

 

When Tauriel returned, she found the brothers like that. Fíli appeared to be sleeping. She softly stepped to Kíli and put her hand on his shoulder. The brown-haired dwarf gave a start and looked up. His forehead was beaded with sweat.

“You should lay down,” she admonished him tenderly. “Should I fetch a healer?”

“No, I’ll be fine. …. Tauriel, he can’t remember. He doesn’t remember anything. Me, mam, Thorin … he doesn’t remember.”

Tauriel knelt down in concern and wiped the sweat from his brow. “That’s what was to be feared.” She glanced to the blond dwarf.

“I knew, but it still hurts. It hurts so much.”

“I understand.”

She gently caressed his shoulders. When he turned to her and put his arms around her middle, she dragged him closer into a tight, but careful, hug. He buried his face in his tunic, trying to still his sobs. Fíli shouldn’t wake up to hear this.


	9. Defiance and Grief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short Thorin/Bilbo chapter again.  
> In the next chapter (to be uploaded early next week, hopefully) we are back in the Mirkwood.

Bilbo sat next to Thorin’s bed and contemplated the Arkenstone. He felt very much reminded of the time when Thorin had succumbed to the gold sickness. Back then he had also sat by himself and contemplated the Arkenstone. Unsure of what he should to do. The situation was less dire now, but puzzling nonetheless.

He rubbed over the smooth surface of the stone. Why had Thorin entrusted him with the jewel? Was he afraid of his own greed? Or that of the other dwarves? Was he delirious? Or was it childish defiance in a king, who had lost his home when Bilbo hadn’t even been born, just to keep a hobbit right where Thorin wanted him? The stone was breathtakingly beautiful. But it was also fearsome. It was the heart of the mountain.

To reclaim it, Thorin had sent him right into Smaug’s lair. He had threatened to throw Bilbo off the battlement when he had given the stone to Bard and Thranduil. And now he had just handed it to Bilbo.

The hobbit shook his head and looked to Thorin, who was slumbering. He would have to wake him up soon. Balin had decided that Thorin had to take up his duties, even if he had to rule from his bed.

As he was watching the king, Thorin’s peaceful slumber morphed into restless nightmares. The hobbit heard the names of Thorin’s nephews mumbled over and over again. Mixed in with them was Bilbo’s own name. And Smaug’s. And fragments of desperate please for someone to stop.

Bilbo decided that Thorin had suffered enough in his sleep and shook him gently. It took a while until Thorin woke up. He grabbed Bilbo’s shoulder.

“Bilbo? By Durin’s beard, you …. Are you all right?”

The king seemed disoriented.

“I’m fine. I’m doing quite well.” His lips took a while until they shaped a smile.

Thorin let his eyes roam over Bilbo to check the truth in his words. Bilbo drew back instinctively and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Really Thorin.”

“Good.” The dwarf nodded and closed his eyes. “You were …. I saw you with him again.”

“With whom?”

“Smaug … he wanted to devour you.”

“Ah.” Stupid question in hindsight. Bilbo too had suffered nightmares in which the dragon features prominently. “Well, Smaug is gone.”

“Still …. I always picture you grabbed by that monster …. His claws in your rosy skin, his repulsive tongue licking your blood …. “ Thorin shuddered.

Bilbo had to shudder too. In his own dreams he was merely incinerated by hot dragon fire. A kinder fate. He scrambled for words, but couldn’t find anything that was appropriate.

“Are you hungry?” he asked to fill the silence.

Thorin shook his head.

“Something to drink maybe? Dori always has some camomile tea ready.”

“Do you wish to torture me?”

“Um …. No, not at all. Why?”

“I would prefer a jug of cool ale,” Thorin admitted.

“Oín didn’t say that you’re allowed to drink ale. Tea is good for those who are sick. Everyone knows that.”

Bilbo hoped that his smile was soothing. Dori and his little brother Ori seemed to be the only dwarves to appreciate tea.

“I'm not sick,” Thorin protested.

Bilbo just looked at him.

“What is it?” Thorin felt chastised, but he didn’t know for what.

“It doesn’t do you any favours to deny it, Thorin. You’ve been gravely wounded and your body is weak. You are sick and your body needs to recover.”

“But no tea, please.”

“Tea helps.” The determination on Bilbo’s face was just as strong as that of any stubborn dwarf.

“No camomile tea,” Thorin tried to negotiate his surrender.

Bilbo crossed his arms, but then he smiled. “We don’t have much of a selection at the moment, I'm afraid, just what could be gathered near the mountain. There is camomile tea, a tea of mixed wild herbs and then there is some peppermint tea we received from Thranduil.”

"Which do you recommend?" Thorin struggled to sit up. He felt too frail lying down in his bed.

“Camomile.” Bilbo smirked. “But I think the mixed herb tea would serve you well.”

Thorin looked at him like a little puppy (the resemblance to Kíli had never been stronger).

“Can I have the tea in my sitting room?”

“You dwarves and your blasted pride.” Bilbo pursed his lips, but he had to admit, that most hobbits would have made the same request. It was just more proper. “I will send Oín to you, while I fetch the tea. He must decide.”

The corners of Thorin’s mouth twitched while his eyes followed Bilbo. Of course he tried to sit up as soon as Bilbo was gone and to put his legs over the edge of the bed. As soon as his legs were dangling off the bed, he gasped. A jolt of pain zapped through his leg. He had forgotten about his injured foot. While he was laying down he had just worried about the injury to his stomach.

 

When Oín entered shortly after that, he just shook his head in silent reproach. Thorin looked at him with an apology implicit in his expression.

“I need to start acting more like a king.”

“You do.” Oín agreed gruffly and inspected the foot. He didn’t seem to find anything to alarm him. Thorin looked at it too.

“Can I put weight on it?”

“No. But I will give you something for the pain and one of the lads can find or carve a cane for you.”

“I should be able to make it to the sitting room. Could you hand me my cloak?”

The healer did so. “We should wait for Bilbo.”

“Why?” Thorin felt irritated now, especially as he struggled to get into his coat. His flexibility wasn’t as good as usual.

Oín helped him before he answered. “We can both help you to get into the sitting room.”

“He will just worry more.”

“He worries. That’s what he does.”

“I never wanted him to worry. He deserves to be happy. But I am glad that he remains under the mountain. I hope he will stay here for a long, long time.”

 

Bilbo reappeared and announced that Dori would be there shortly with the requested tea. Requested by Bilbo, of course.

Thorin smiled brightly at the Halfling. Bilbo nearly took a step backwards in surprise, but pulled himself together. He then stepped to Thorin to assist Oín in getting the king up.

The king had to take a deep breath. This was difficult. Bilbo was concerned and did his best to support the much heavier dwarf, as they made their way to the living room.

Thorin was glad they had waited for Bilbo after all. This was harder than he had imagined. He nearly fainted at one point. With his usual stubbornness he forced himself to take step after step.

Bilbo breathed his relief once they had managed to place Thorin on a chair. Then he puckered his forehead.

“We have to the same exercise to get you back to bed. Great.”

Oín mumbled something about fetching Balin, who had to talk to the king and disappeared.

 

Bilbo sat down gingerly on a chair next to Thorin. He wasn’t sure if he should stay or leave. Thorin turned his head towards him.

“Tell me, my friend, what is the situation under the mountain?”

Bilbo took a moment to reflect. “It’s still dirty,” he started but remembered then that Thorin lacked a sense of humour.

“Many of Dain’s warriors are injured. They’re treated as good as currently possible by Oín and the healers that Dain brought. Thanks to Thranduil we have enough supplies to make it through the winter. Dain also promised to send some food. Nori and Bofur hunt, as do some men in Dale, so there is some fresh meat in both cities. Some of the men of Dale have gone down to the lake to fish, but without nets there is only so much they can do. Others salvage the nets from the remains of laketown and are busy repairing them.” Bilbo didn’t need to say that all this meant that fresh food was scarce. And that the king as well as the other patients ate far better than the rest of them.

“All are happy that there is enough drink,” he continued. “Thror’s wine cellars have not been destroyed by Smaug.” He had to laugh when he remembered some of the excitement surrounding that discovery. Gloin had immediately hidden some bottles to sell them later on. “Balin organizes the transport of the treasure to chambers deeper within in the mountain. Ori …” Bilbo paused and lowered his eyes. “Ori has compiled the lists of the dead and missing. The dead have not been buried yet. The dwarves feel that the burial should be honoured by the attendance of both kings.”

Thorin nodded slowly. “They are right. I hope I will be able to do so soon. Did you ….” Thorin choked and didn’t finish the sentence.

“There are only two names on the list of the missing,” Bilbo replied. He had to force himself to keep his eyes on Thorin.

Thorin fought for his breath. He reclined his head against the backrest of the chair in search of support. He couldn't accept this.

Bilbo stood up, but hesitated. He remembered Balin’s tale of the battle of Moria. Thorin had been roaming through the battlefield, frantic in his search for his father. He had not only lost friends, but also his beloved brother and grandfather. His father had gone mad shortly afterwards and was only spotted at large intervals. It seemed to be Thorin’s sad fate to lose those closest to him on the battlefield. Only his sister remained, but she was in the Blue Mountains right now. There were no words the hobbit, who had grown up in the peaceful shire, could say to soothe the pain.

The king was shivering now, despite the fire that had been lit in the sitting room. Bilbo fetched a blanket anyway, he was desperate to do anything that would help.

When he put it around Thorin’s shoulder, the king looked at him. Bilbo felt shaken to the core by the depth of the grief in Thorin’s eyes.

He stretched out his hand and put it on Thorin’s shoulder. How he longed to have Balin there, the dwarf who understood Thorin best. Could one hug a proud king of the dwarves as a simple hobbit from the shire? He compromised by caressing Thorin’s shoulder and curling his other hand around Thorin’s arm.

Thorin let himself fall forward into Bilbo’s arms and thus made the decision for Bilbo. He wrapped his arms as tightly as he could around the broad body and held on as Thorin cried in despair.


	10. Brothers

Thorin’s nephew, the missing crown prince, didn’t feel his uncle’s grief. His pain was dull. The emptiness in his head scared him.

Fíli had only been feigning sleep when Kíli broke down in Tauriel’s arms. He had cried because Fíli hadn’t recognized him. It comforted Fíli to know that this dwarf cared about him. Shortly after that he had managed to fall asleep.

 

Now he was feigning sleep again. The elf had left the room moments ago, but his brother was still there. Brother. He repeated the words “brother” and “Kíli” in his head. Nothing. No recollection. He sighed and turned over to face the other bed. He could hardly pretend to be sleeping all day. And he was hungry. Fíli cleared his throat.

“Kíli?”

The brownhaired dwarf shifted a bit in his bed and grumbled.

Fíli had to chuckle.

“Kíli?” He tried again, a bit louder.

“Mh? What? I didn’t eat your sweet bean puree.”

“I know,” Fíli answered nonplussed. Sweet bean puree didn’t sound like anything he ever wanted to eat. “Kíli, please wake up.”

“I’m awake!” Kíli lifted his head and looked around.

“I’m sorry to wake you up,” Fíli said. “But I didn’t eat anything yesterday. I'm hungry. And I can’t move so I can't get some myself.”

“You’re hungry? That’s great!” Kíli jumped out of bed a bit too quickly. He staggered to the door to find someone to help them out with food.

 

The elf he encountered in the hallway, grabbed his upper arm to stabilize him. 

“What is it that you want?” He asked in faint surprise. Kíli had never ventured outside his room before.

“Could we get something to eat? My brother woke up again and is hungry.”

The elf nodded and gently pushed Kíli back into his room. 

“Certainly. Do not touch him, we will have to be careful when we prop him up.”

He inclined his head, as he closed the door.

Kíli puffed his cheeks as he walked over to Fíli. 

“As if I’d let any of them tell me what do to.”

He gingerly sat next to Fíli on the bed. The blond turned his head to face him. 

“Thank you for ordering food."

Kíli grinned.

“I just hope they bring something edible – last time there were only greens.”

“Radgast always made herbal soup.”

“The elves share his taste, apparently. Wait until we’re back to the mountain! We’ll feast there!”

Kíli blithely forgot that there had just been a war. And that the elves had needed to supply the people of Laketown/Dale with food. Fíli, who had only a vague idea about all of this, smiled.

“I believe you.”

“And Bombur will make his famous pie and for dessert we will have apple cake, you always loved that. You will remember after the first bite, I just know it!”

“I hope so.” Fíli looked at the dwarf who seemed to care so much about him. “I am sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Kíli put his hand on Fíli’s.

Only Fíli’s clenched jaw betrayed how uncomfortable the gesture made him.

“I suppose not. But let me apologize for being rude yesterday. I was …. No, I am …. overwhelmed.”

“It’s not like I’m used to this situation, you know.”

Fíli tried to laugh but failed. “I do hope this isn’t our usual routine.”

“Maybe Gandalf can help you …. Or we go to Elrond, once your body permits the journey.”

“And who are … no, don’t tell me. I just hope anyone out there can help me. But you're right. My body needs to heal first.”

He lifted the arm that Kíli didn’t touch. That was about all the movement he had at the moment. Even the small movement hurt.

“I don’t have any memories, but I don’t think I am much used to lying around.”

“No, you're a great warrior.”

“That’s not how I feel at the moment. At all.”

“Can you feel your legs again?”

“No.” Fíli sighed and pulled a face. “The healer said I need to be patient.”

“That's difficult.”

“Yes, I already figured out that patience isn't my strength.”

It was of course due to his lack of patience that Radagast had actually brought him here, despite the risk. Fíli swallowed. He nearly caused himself to be permanently paralysed.

“I will learn to be more patient,” he promised himself rather than Kíli.

“Don’t worry, I will look after you now.” Kíli winked. “You used to look after me, it’s my turn now.”

Fíli scrutinized him. “We are brothers, right? And I'm older?”

“Yes, five years. You're my big brother.” Kíli grinned. "Well, until I grew taller than you of course. Now I take care of you."

 

Fíli was still laughing about that when two elves came in, carrying food. They were followed by Tauriel. She hadn’t been on patrol but endured an exhausting conversation with Thranduil instead. She remained in the background while the elves shooed Kíli off the bed and started to prop Fíli up.

Kíli climbed off the bed and then had to bend his back, his hand pressed to his chest. He tended to forget that he was injured.

Tauriel was immediately at his side and put her arm around him. She forgot to consider that this might hurt his pride in front of the other two elves. They were busy with Fíli though.

“Are you alright?” she whispered.

“I have to …” He forced a smile.

She just nodded and waited for the elves to leave them. She looked at Fíli, who seemed fine and eager to dig into his food, then back to Kíli.

“Kíli, can you come outside with me for a moment?”

Kíli also looked at his brother to make sure he was alright, before he took Tauriel’s hand.

“Of course.”

Fíli nodded at them, his mouth already stuffed with bread.


	11. A private conversation

Luckily there weren’t many elves about. The reaction of those who were about ranged from surprise to outright shock when they saw Tauriel leading Kíli to her own room. A dwarf and an elf walking hand in hand was enough to astonish the oldest elves. When they were at her door, she looked at the floor, unable to keep her news to herself any longer.

“Let me give you the good news. Thorin is alive.”

Kíli stumbled in surprise, then he beamed at her. “Mahal be praised.”

“None of your companions has fallen.” Tauriel smiled slightly as she opened the door to her room. It contained not much more than a bed, a desk, a chair and a few books on a shelf made out of a polished chunk of wood. The bed looked tidy and unslept in.

Tauriel didn’t give Kíli much time to take in the surroundings. She dropped his hand as she looked at him earnestly.

“Kíli, I …” She paused. “Thranduil has always been my king. And more than that. My parents have been killed in an orc attack when I was young. My father had been a highly respected commander. Thranduil took a personal interest in my upbringing. We have never been close, but I have always been loyal. Until I defied him when I followed you to Esgaroth. And later I tried to stop Thranduil when he ordered our warriors to retreat from Dale.”

She looked at him intently. “You understand loyalty, don’t you? All of you are loyal to Thorin.”

“Yes, obviously. What ….”

Of course this was too obtuse for the dwarf.

“You see, Thranduil holds us responsible for Legolas’ departure. Legolas is his son and he is fond of him. The situation makes Thranduil more moody than our recent losses would have in any case.”

“Well …. I'm sorry for him, but I can’t help what I’m feeling ….”

She smiled as she took his hands again. “Nor can I. Or Legolas for that matter. To me, he was always my most trusted and dearest friend. I only realised shortly before your arrival that his feelings had turned romantic. When he saw me mourning you on the Ravenhill.” She worried her lip. “He couldn’t take it. He left.”

“Wow, what a great friend.”

That wasn’t what she wanted to discuss with Kíli. But Tauriel followed her impulse to defend her friend.

“He is a good friend. The best I could wish for. He followed me to Laketown to help you and thus defied his father’s orders. It is not his fault that he looked for love where I could only offer friendship. His feelings overwhelmed him on the hill, just as mine overwhelmed me.”

“He must still be young for an elf, right?”

Tauriel chuckled. “He is much older than me. Not nearly as old as Thranduil of course, let alone Lord Elrond, the Lady of the Light or Círdan the Shipwright. But older than the establishment of Erebor as a dwarf kingdom.”

Kíli looked unsure. “Well, he seems immature.”

“Let’s not talk about Legolas. I was preparing you for the bad news, which I fear will make you angry.”

Kíli was still in the dark and cocked his head. She lowered her eyes.

“Thorin lives. But he is unaware that either of you survived.”

“What?! Why?”

“Obstinacy on Thranduil’s part,” she confessed quietly. Her voice trembled a bit, as she spoke about her king in this disrespectful manner. “He went to war against Thorin to retrieve his jewels. The arrival of the orcs distracted him from that purpose. And he still hasn’t received those jewels.”

“I can talk to Thorin. I’m sure, Thorin will deliver them to Thranduil.”

That seemed unlikely to Tauriel. She hadn’t been present when the already famous confrontation at the gate of Erebor had taken place. But she had heard the story from many elves with various embellishments.

“Who knows,” she said in a vague manner. “What I do know is that this solution is not possible at the moment.”

“Well, as long as Fíli and I are here, that's difficult, yes.”

“And you will have to stay for a while. I hope, I really hope, that I managed to convince Thranduil to send a message to Erebor. At least to establish contact. I am afraid that Thranduil is presently a bit fickle when it comes to listening to my counsel.”

“I know. And Fíli isn’t doing well at the moment. We can only leave for Erebor once he can walk again.”

Tauriel needed a while to look from her feet back to him.

“Kíli. As long as the jewels are not safely in Thranduil’s possession, I do not believe that you will be allowed to leave.”

“But how can I fetch them if I cannot leave?”

“Would Thorin hand them over to a messenger?”

“He would either come himself or demand that Thranduil show up in person. Without an army.”

“We will have to find a solution.” Tauriel sighed. “And then you can go home to Erebor.”

“I won’t leave without my brother, so you will have to bear my presence for a while longer.” He grinned at her with his customary cheek, which brightened her mood again.

She had to smile and put her hand tenderly on the junction of his neck and shoulder.

“Gladly.”

Kíli took her hand to drag it to his lip and pressed a quick kiss on it.

“Actually I'm in no hurry to go to Erebor.”

“No?”

“I'm happy to be here with you.”

Those were the words she had longed to hear. She put her free hand tentatively on his hip.

“Just as I am happy to have you here with me.”

Kíli beamed up at her. She was happy just to stand there, feeling his warm body close to hers and look into his huge, beautiful eyes. The openness in his gaze attracted her with a force she had never experienced before.

She laughed when she remembered how her feelings had confused her. Back when she had arrested him and then thrown her into the cell. Luckily he came on to her in such a cheesy manner that she could compose herself a little.

“I am happy we caught you,” she confessed. Kíli widened his eyes in surprise.

“I would never have been able to meet you otherwise,” she explained. She was still smiling, and bent down to press a soft kiss on his forehead.

Impulsive dwarf that he was, Kíli tugged at Tauriel’s red strands. He dragged her face down until he could properly kiss her.

The elf was thrown off her guard. She closed her eyes automatically when she felt his surprisingly soft lips on hers.

Kíli was overjoyed to be finally able to kiss his love. When he released her, his blush tinged even the tip of his round ears.

Tauriel blinked and put her hands on her cheeks to hide her own bright blush. She slowly righted herself again, then she looked down. Adoration shone on her face.

“You are full of surprises.”

“Well, I’m a dwarf in love.”

“Dwarves are more upfront than elves it seems.”

“I’m sorry if I was too forward,” he mumbled, chastised.

She smiled soothingly. “It’s fine. Elves usually take matters slowly. But I never fell in love with an elf after all, but with a bold little dwarf.”

“I'm a tall dwarf,” Kíli corrected her immediately. He tried to stretch himself to appear even taller. That was a bad idea. He winced as he overstretched his still healing muscles and skin.

“I meant young,” Tauriel corrected herself hastily, while she gently pushed Kíli to sit onto her bed.

“I know,” Kíli smiled tightly. It didn’t quite soothe Tauriel.

“Are you in much pain again?”

“No, it was just a twinge.”

“Should I take a look? Or call for a healer?”

“I don’t want a healer. I see them hovering around Fíli all the time anyway.”

She nodded, feeling a bit awkward. She should look at his wound and had he been an elf, she would have done so immediately. It was just that there was no elf she was interested in as she was in Kíli. Maybe she should just wait. She sat down next to him.

“I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“You didn’t. Really.” Kíli rubbed small circles over his breast.

“Good.” She glanced down. “I should take a look.”

“If it would ease your mind, be my guest.”

“It would ease my mind to know your wounds healed.”

The king of the woodelves was not the only elf less patient than was commonly assumed of their race.

Tauriel attempted to open Kíli’s tunic as professionally as she could. Thanks to the lacing, she didn’t need to take his tunic off, which was a small blessing. Her hands trembled when they encountered the hair on his breast. So foreign and yet so tempting. She forced herself to remain calm and appraised the wound.

Kíli couldn’t help his curiosity and he kept trying to look down too. His hair kept blocking Tauriel’s view.

She looked up to tell him to stop, but was arrested when she found her face in close proximity to Kíli’s. All thoughts on his wound vanished.

Kíli looked at her with wide, innocent eyes. “So? What do you think?”

Tauriel swallowed and forced herself to look down again. She wanted nothing more than to kiss him again.

“I can’t see if you keep trying to bend down,” she murmured.

“Should I lay down on the bed?”

“No, just keep still.”

Kíli pressed his lips together but he twitched his legs instead now that he tried to keep his upper body still.

She laughed and sat up again. That was better for her composure.

“It seems that you are doing quite well.”

“It’s not bleeding in any case.”

“No.”

She rose quickly. As much as she had enjoyed the moment with Kíli, to have him on her own bed after he had just her first kiss, was too much.

Especially as there were so many open questions between them and she was unsure how to address them.

“We should go back to your brother,” she said instead.

Kíli nodded and rose too. He took her hand and squeezed it, smiling up at her again until she felt weak in the knees. She hastened to open the door before they could advance things more quickly than she felt comfortable with.


	12. A message from Mirkwood

Ori came running into Thorin's sitting room. A was perched on his shoulder and towered over his head.

“Thorin! A Raven!” The young scribe announced as if anyone could miss the large bird. He caught his breath. “A message from Thranduil.”

The Raven fluttered down from Ori’s shoulder and sat down on the table in a stately posture. Thorin tried to copy it, but his wounds stopped him and he sank down again.

“Give us the message,” he demanded, compensating his lack of majestic composure with a majestic tone. The bird opened its beak.

“Thranduil reminds you that you still haven’t released the Jewels he lays claim to. And he lets you know that your nephews’ wounds are currently treated by his healers.”

Thorin’s heart stopped for a long moment. His face was frozen.

Bilbo could also do nothing but stare at the Raven. Ori couldn't contain his excitement. He bounced on his toes. Nobody spoke.

The Raven seemed to understand that Thorin was not able to respond right away. It took off.

As soon as the bird had gone, Thorin struggled up. A small groan escaped him as he stood. But he just held onto this stomach and hobbled towards his room.

A second later, Ori and Bilbo hurried after him.

“Thorin?” Bilbo tried to put a restraining hand on Thorin’s arm.

“I must go and see them,” Thorin said, still hobbling forward.

“You’re too weak.” Bilbo tried to restrain him and looked to Ori. Ori seemed as lost as he was.

“I get Dwalin,” the young scribe brought out and scurried off in haste.

“My boys ….” Thorin looked at Bilbo desperately. “My nephews, they …”

“Are alive, it appears. And safe,” Bilbo interrupted him, his voice much firmer than he felt at the moment. His knees desperately wanted to cave in.

“I just have to see them. Please. I have to."

The hobbit shook his head.

“Thorin,” he said quietly. “It is a long journey to the Mirkwood. You are wounded and weak. What do you intend to do?”

“I don’t mean to walk. We have ponies again. And the rams …”

Bilbo still shook his head. 

“Even so. Look, Thorin. They’re alive. Thranduil wouldn’t have given you this message if they were in any danger. They’re _alive_. Five minutes ago I was convinced they were fallen”

“Yes. They are alive. My boys.” He took a deep breath. “The jewels. I must find this cursed jewels …”

“Yes, exactly,” Bilbo confirmed. He was glad they both understood the message the same way. Kíli and Fíli were alive but they would not leave the Mirkwood before Thranduil had his jewels.

Thorin let him take hold of his arm and help him to the bed. Thorin was suspiciously compliant. Then Bilbo noticed the way he dragged the foot that had been stabbed. He knelt down and tried to check on the bandaged wound once Thorin was sitting down on the bed.

“You put too much weight on it, haven’t you?”

“I forgot all about it,” Thorin confessed. “Bilbo …. Can’t _you_ ride to see Thranduil?” Thorin became animated. It was lucky that Bilbo’s reflexes had improved as he could catch the king before he toppled off the bed. He forced Thorin to lay down know and helped him put his throbbing foot on the bed. Only then did Bilbo deign to answer.

“I can ride to the Mirkwood,” he said. “And then what?”

“Return my nephews.” Thorin took Bilbo’s hand. The hobbit let him and squeezed it. Perhaps Thorin hadn’t quite understood the message.

“You know, I would love to do that. But, and I have come to appreciate how hard this is for a dwarf, try to look at the broader picture. We need a better plan than ‘Put a Halfling on a horse and send him to the most difficult elven king in the history of Middle-Earth’. That is not promising as a plan.”

“It worked when Gandalf did it,” Thorin smiled. Then he put his hand on Bilbo’s cheek. “You are the only one I could trust to talk to Thranduil,” he said. “I know you can do it.”

“Um, thank you, Thorin.” Bilbo tried to smile to hide his surprise. The dwarf’s responding smile was weak.

“In a few days I might be able to travel with you.”

Durin’s folk didn’t give up easily. Bilbo however clung onto the suggestion of waiting.

“Yes, waiting for a few days is a good idea. We can collect the jewels, prepare, and maybe send a message to Thranduil ….” He interrupted himself before he could start babbling, and coughed a little. He gave Thorin’s hand a last squeeze before he disentangled himself. “Everything will turn out well.”

 

When Ori reappeared with Dwalin, both were surprised that Dwalin’s intervention wasn’t necessary anymore. The king was laying comfortably in his bed. He didn’t show any signs of intending to get out and do something stupid.

Dwalin crosses his arms in front of his chest anyway. “You promise that everything is all right now?” he demanded, frowning. “You won’t try and bugger off during the night?”

Thorin smiled crookedly. “I am hardly a dwarfling anymore, Dwalin.”

“You were seventy the last time you did that,” Dwalin grumbled.

Bilbo and Ori both had to bite their lips to keep themselves from giggling. Those had been tense weeks. Hearing Dwalin talk like that to Thorin made it hard not to release some of the tension by giggling hysterically.

Finally, Bilbo composed himself.

“I will stay here tonight to make sure he doesn’t escape,” he promised.

He noticed that Dwalin and Ori looked at each other with meaningful smirks. Thorin drew his eyebrows together.

“Stop it.”

The Hobbit looked at the three dwarves feeling confused.

“What is it?”

“Get lost you two,” Thorin instructed the two others dwarves. “Cheeky buggers, the two of them,” he grumbled, once they had obediently left. They had still been smirking.

“You shouldn’t talk about your best friend like that,” Bilbo chided him.

“I should when he’s acting like that,” Thorin declared, grinning now.

“Well …” Bilbo shrugged. “He was right though. Promise that you won’t try to escape.”

“I won’t if you stay with me.”

“I will.” Bilbo nodded. “We both stay here. That is most reasonable.”

“Stay in my bed?”

“Pardon?”

“You could stay in my bed too. It’s more comfortable.”

The hobbit opened his mouth and closed it again. Then he stared at a spot just above Thorin’s head.

“That won’t be necessary. I am used to sleeping on the chair by now.”

“Nonsense. The bed is big enough.”

“Well, yes, but …”

“I won’t bite.”

“I wasn’t afraid of that.” Bilbo laughed.

“Then sleep up here.”

“I will consider it,” Bilbo conceded. He was feeling doubtful though.

It seemed to satisfy Thorin. He didn’t give any indication of desiring to leave his chambers. Instead, he asked Bilbo to make sure Dwalin had sent instruction to hunt for the white jewels. If Thranduil desired them in exchange for Thorin’s nephews, they had become top priority.


	13. An embarassed hobbit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I finally remembered this again. Yay.  
> Yami and me never finished the story, but we wrote way more than we ever published and I've decided to write an ending myself.  
> Before I updated, I cleaned up and hopefully improved all the previous chapters. Some of them had a ton of really embarassing mistakes.

A certain little hobbit grew more and more nervous as the evening went on. Thorin was tired and began to divest himself of his clothes. The exercise was cumbersome, his limbs ached and he was weary. But it was time to get ready for bed. 

Bilbo contemplated offering his help. He decided against it and took of his own jacket. Then he crossed and uncrossed his arms several times.

“Um.”

Thorin just looked at him, waiting for the continuation.

“Are you sure the bed is big enough?”

Thorin opened his mouth, but closed it again. He looked at the bed. Four dwarves would be able to sleep in it with room to spare. When dwarves built royal beds, they did not stint.

Bilbo blushed. He really was silly. A deep breath helped.

“Is it all right if I sleep in my clothes?”

“Sure. But there should also be some tunics in the closet. Old, but clean. Dori took it upon himself to wash all the linen. They took most of the clothes to the wounded.”

“Thank you.”

Bilbo found indeed a simple white tunic in the fusty old closet. He grabbed it and dashed to the bathroom.

 

When he emerged again, Thorin was already settled in bed. Bilbo bit his lip. He looked ridiculous. The tunic had been cut for a wide and tall dwarf. The shoulder seam nearly reached to Bilbo’s elbows. The thing ended at his ankles. 

Thorin didn’t comment. Bilbo could pretend that he hadn’t seen the lightning quick twitch of Thorin’s lips. Thorin lifted the cover. Of course. The bed was ridiculously big, but there was only one cover. Bilbo grumbled a bit, but a promise was a promise. And it was bound to be more comfortable than anything he had slept on for months. 

“Are you all right, Mr. Baggins?” Thorin asked. His tone was teasing. It reminded Bilbo of Thorin’s nephews. He squashed the thought.

“Hobbits are not used to sharing a bed,” he explained instead.

“I thought the shirefolk are so hospitable?”

Bilbo chuckled. “We have our limits.”

He tried to imagine Lobelia if someone suggested she share their bed. 

“The bed is more than twice the size of those in Bag End. Two elves could sleep in here easily,” Thorin broke through that thought. “I would never have elves in my bed, of course.”

That was too much for Bilbo. To imagine Thorin in bed with Thranduil … He had to gasp for air.

“I believe you,” he assured the bemused king when he had calmed down. He wiped his eyes with the sleeve of the tunic.

“What was so funny?” 

“The thought of you sharing your bed with an elf.”

The dwarf grumbled. He shivered slightly. “Never. I don’t invite just anyone to share my bed.”

“I feel honoured, my king.”

Bilbo felt the corners of his mouth twitch. 

“How many hobbits did you invite?”

“You’re the first hobbit I got to know,” Thorin admitted.

“That’s a shame.”

“If all hobbits are like you, it is indeed.”

“I doubt the hobbits in the Shire would share that sentiment.”

“Why?” Thorin turned on his side to inspect Bilbo as if to find a fault.

“I'm afraid I will be something of an outsider.” Bilbo sighed. “It might be just as well that you don’t know many hobbits. Most of us are not adventurous at all. And much more proper than me.”

“Why do you wish to return then? You should stay here, with me.”

“But …” Bilbo stopped himself. “With you?”

“With me,” Thorin confirmed.

The hobbit was silent. But he couldn’t come up with a better reply than “Why?”

“Because you made me a better dwarf. And a better king.”

Bilbo scratched his head. Much as he would have liked to, he couldn’t dispute that. He smiled ruefully.

“So I turned you into a better dwarf. And you turned me into a bad hobbit.”

Thorin looked guilty.

“It’s okay,” Bilbo assured him. “I don’t regret anything.”

“I hope you will decide to remain here. We can visit the Shire, you know. We will go and fetch your belongings as soon as I'm recovered. And my boys are home.”

Bilbo grit his teeth. “Thorin. For the last time. The king under the mountain simply cannot follow a little hobbit to the Shire. Especially if the sole purpose of that journey is to fetch said hobbit’s belongings. It is not seemly. You have loyal dwarves to take care of such matters for you.”

“They can manage the mountain while I’m gone.”

“Give me one reason why you have to come with me in person?”

“Because we’re friends?”

“I'm friends with Bofur too. And Ori. And I'm sure Dwalin would come with me too, if I asked.”

“They are all welcome to join us. I just need Balin to remain here and take care of business.”

“Save me from the stubbornness of dwarves.” Bilbo laughed. But he soon stopped and fixed the king with serious eyes. “Thorin. I have not made my decision yet. But I would never go back on my words. If I decide to remain here, I _will_ return. You do not have to follow me to make sure of it.”

“I trust you. But who knows what might happen if you are away for so long.”

“But …”

“We will make our plans once you made your decision,” Thorin decided. He pulled the cover up to Bilbo’s shoulder. The hobbit caved in.

“Good plan.”

Thorin smiled and closed his eyes. Soon his steady breathing told Bilbo that the dwarf was asleep. 


	14. Hair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So one decision I made was that from now on I will post at least two chapters with every update, so there is Thorin/Bilbo as well as Tauriel/Kili (and Kili + Fili) in every update.

Fíli was laying on his bed. Not that he had any other choice at the moment. He glanced over to the brown-haired dwarf on the other side of the room. He was sitting on his bed and appeared bored. He had honoured Fíli’s wish to keep his distance. Fíli had been in this room for two days. And he grew ever more frustrated. He might not have any memories. But he knew deep down that it wasn’t normal to be so clueless. He knew nothing. He only knew Radagast’s hut and this room. He couldn’t remember ever having seen something else. But he was vaguely aware that a dwarfish dwelling would involve a lot more stone. He blew the hair off his face. Maybe he didn’t need time alone.

“Kíli?” he called out.

The younger dwarf turned to him immediately. He straightened and looked so alert that Fíli nearly had to laugh. 

“Would you help me with my hair?”

He grabbed his scraggy braid to demonstrate how necessary it was. Kíli beamed.

“May I? Really? Hang on, I just …. We need a brush! Why isn’t there a brush!”

Fíli smirked as he watched the other dwarf look around. It felt a bit familiar.

Kíli scrambled out of his bed and went out to find someone who could provide him with a brush. The elves never asked questions, that was the good think about them. The healer he accosted just took a brush out of a cupboard. She couldn’t stop a remark that she hoped it would prove adequate for coarse dwarfish hair. Kíli didn’t know what “adequate” meant and thus ignored the barb easily.

 

Back in his room, Fíli had begun the cumbersome task of undoing his braid. Kíli chuckled as he settled behind his brother.

“Don’t worry. You soon look like a prince again.”

“A prince?”

“We are princes,” Kíli explained as if that was negligible information. He untangled the messy hair with his fingers first.

“I see.” Fíli had to bite his lip. Despite Kíli’s best efforts, he had to pull when he untangled the strands. It hurt a bit. When Kíli noticed he tried to be even gentler. Once the worst tangles were undone, he began to rub Fíli’s scalp lovingly.

Fíli closed his eyes.

“Did you use to do that before?” he asked softly.

“I did. It’s easier with your hair. Mine are stroppy.”

“I believe you.” Fíli swallowed. “You know, this does feel familiar, “he confessed.

Kíli put his chin on Fíli’s head.

“Really?” His voice sounded far too happy. “You are getting better!”

Fíli sighed and squinted up to his brother. “I hope so.”

Kíli embraced him carefully.

“I am just happy to have you here.”

“I am just happy to have someone.”

“I’m always here for you. I promise. And as soon as you are well, we return to Erebor. You might remember our uncle.”

“I might.” Fíli sighed. “I hope. I feel fine with you. Like I’ve known you forever. We will see how much more returns.”

 

Kíli did his best to refresh Fíli’s memory. He began to talk about their childhood. Their mother. The pranks they played. He talked of Balin and Dwalin. Of the company and of Bilbo. While he talked, he brushed and combed through Fíli’s hair until it was detangled, soft and freshly braided.

He hadn’t noticed when Fíli had drifted off to sleep. All the stories were overwhelming. He had tuned them out and just enjoyed the sound of Kíli’s voice until he was fast asleep.

When Kíli was finished, he settled down next to Fíli and put his arm over his brother. He was just happy to have him here. To feel Fíli’s breath and the warmth of his living body.

 

Tauriel smiled when she found them half an hour later.

“He trusts you.”

“Yes. And he should. I’d do anything for him. I love him so much, you see. He was always there for me.”

She nodded and sat down next to Fíli’s bed. “I know. I’ve seen the affection between the two of you before. And he feels it too.”

“It’s still there.” Kíli looked at her. Despair and hope warred in his eyes. “He will really remember me again. Right?”

She hesitated. “We cannot know how much he will be able to remember. Some memories might be gone. I hope you won’t be too disappointed if there are cherished memories he will never share again.”

“As long as he remembers that he is my brother.”

“He already does, I think.”

She checked if Fíli was truly asleep, then she turned to Kíli again.

“Thranduil has sent a message to Erebor. Thorin knows that you survived.”

“Thank you.” Kíli stretched out a hand to squeeze hers. 

“You have been blessed with your family.”

“I have. And you will become part of it.”

Tauriel’s expression became serious. “We never spoke of that.”

“Of what?”

“The future. Us.”

Kíli looked uncertain now. “There is an ‘us,’ right?”

It was the first time he had ever expressed doubt. For some strange reason that soothed Tauriel. 

“Yes. That is, I wish for it. I … On the Ravenhill. I cannot tell you how much I regretted that I didn’t follow you to Erebor. To have had you for a short time. Before.” She took a deep breath. “I have never wanted anything so much.”

Kíli closed his eyes in relief. “I never want to be without you.”

She looked down. “Will your uncle allow it though?”

Kíli squeezed her hand harder. “He will. And if he is set against it, my mother will change his mind.”

She dared to smile and brushed over his forehead. “Your mother will be happy with an elf as a daughter-in-law?”

“Once she’s convinced you can tame me.”

“Can I?”

He grinned broadly. “You can try.”

She let her hand rest on his cheek. 

“I would prefer to never see you hit by a Morgul shaft again. Or jumping on orcs when you are already half dead. But I wouldn’t want you to change.”

“I can managed that,” Kíli promised. “The jumping on orcs when I’m sick, at least.”

She smiled. “Believe me, I am very reckless for an elf. And rash.”

“Really?” Kíli blinked. “I think you’re very controlled. And mannerly.”

“I followed you to Esgaroth. Against Thranduil’s explicit orders. I followed you on the Raven Hill. I challenged Thranduil himself. And the worst thing is, I spent my nights with a dwarf. I have been spotted holding hands with a dwarf in the hallways. You see, I am reckless.”

“We suit each other,” Kíli agreed.

She laughed and bend over to press a chaste kiss on his cheek. But Kíli turned his head at the last moment so their lips met.

The kiss was short but Tauriel blushed. She looked over to Fíli who was still asleep.

Kíli winked. “Got you.”

“Indeed.”

 

Kíli felt content and cuddled closer to his brother. Fíli mumbled something in his sleep. Then he opened bleary eyes.

“Kíli? Tauriel?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did we wake you up?” Kíli looked a bit contrite.

“No. What did you do to wake me up?”

“Nothing. I just thought we talked too loudly.”

“No.”

Kíli caressed Fíli’s head to soothe his grumpiness. 

“Oy! You just detangled them!” Fíli’s grumpy protest dashed that purpose.

“I’m careful,” Kíli muttered and tousled the blond locks.

Fíli did his best to arrest his brother’s hands. He was limited in his movements but determined. Even if he didn’t remember it, Tauriel could see that this was typical behaviour for the two brothers.

 

Kíli allowed Fíli to catch his hands after a while. Fíli held them awkwardly.

“You tangled them again,” he complained.

“I didn’t. You’re still pretty.”

“Pretty?” Fíli did his best to drag Kíli’s hands away from his hair. “Pretty?!”

Kíli giggled. “You would turn the head of any dwarrowdam. Or maybe an elf maiden.”

“You already turned the head of the only elf maiden I know.”

Kíli looked quickly up to Tauriel and then back to Fíli. “Too true. Hands off.”

Fíli chuckled. “Don’t worry. Turning anyone’s head is the least of my worries. And …” he squeezed Kíli’s hand, “I’m not pretty. I might have lost my memory. But I know that dwarves are not supposed to be pretty.”

“It’s better than cute, isn’t it?”

“Don’t you dare!” Fíli forgot that he was hardly threatening at the moment.

“You always call me cute,” Kíli claimed.

“I am sure I only did that when you were a little dwarfling.” Fíli smirked. “On the other hand – are you even an adult yet?”

Kíli sucked in his cheeks. “Soon,” he mumbled.

“So I can still call you cute.” Fíli was delighted.

“Only for three more years.”

Fíli laughed and assured his brother that he was very cute. But Tauriel’s posture had stiffened. She stared at Kíli with wide eyes.


	15. A disturbed elf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tauriel learns something new about dwarves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so last time I promised both Kíli/Tauriel and Bilbo/Thorin for every update. And I have to break that promise already, because that would have meant 5 chapters today. While they are quite short, I think the notification that there are FIVE new chapters would have overwhelmed too many subscribers ;)  
> But there will be an update soon with more chapters.

Kíli noticed that something was wrong when he tried to grab Tauriel’s hand again. The elf was hesitant.

“Tauriel?”

“Kíli. How old are you?”

“I’ll be 78 next summer,” he answered with some pride.

“And that isn’t – grown-up – for dwarves?”

He shrugged. “Depends, I suppose. Fíli’s five years older than me and could marry right away, for example.”

It was lucky that elves were not prone to hysteria. Once they were past fifty in any case. Tauriel remained calm. She breathed in and out.

“I see,” she answered with a calm that chilled Fíli. Kíli still smiled blithely.

“It doesn’t matter,” he explained. “Once I got Thorin’s and Mam’s okay, I can marry. No problem.”

“Good.” Tauriel rose. “I must leave you to it now. The guards are due for a surprise inspection. I will return later in the evening.”

*

Once she had left the room, Fíli looked up to his brother.

“Thinking is not your strength, is it?”

Kíli cocked his head.

“Why?”

“Did she know that you’re not an adult?”

“Well, she could see that, couldn’t she?”

“See what?”

“My beard? It will be thicker in three years. I hope.”

Fíli sighed. “I don’t know much. But from what I gather, Tauriel doesn’t have an extensive knowledge about dwarves. And you expect her to guess a dwarf’s age by his beard? She probably thought you cut like that on purpose.”

Kíli flushed. “No, I …” He cleared his throat. “It will grow.”

“That’s good. I’m sure it will reconcile Tauriel to the fact that she’s in love with a child.”

“I’m no child!” Kíli objected hotly. “Thorin would never have taken a child on this quest.”

Fíli groaned when Kíli’s jerky movement jostled him.

“Keep still or get off my bed. You act like a child. And Tauriel believes so too.”

“Sorry. I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to hurt you.” Kíli did his best to remain still. “Okay now?”

“Yes,” Fíli grumbled. “But seriously. You didn’t notice her reaction?”

“You mean … You mean there isn’t a surprise inspection?”

“I’m sure there is one now, but its timing was as much a surprise for her as for the guards.”

“Should I go and find her?”

Fíli snorted. “And how are you going to find her? Just talk to her when she returns.”

“I will. But should I have lied to her and pretended I’m older?”

“No, of course not. But you should have explained right at the beginning. It’s not a subject you bring up casually. She’s the captain of the guard here. I don’t think she became an adult that recently. She’s a grown elf, she didn’t expect to fall for someone who’s not.”

“I couldn’t know that when I met her,” Kíli defended himself. “And I couldn’t help my feelings.”

The sullen defiance in his voice rouse something in Fíli. He patted Kíli’s hand.

“She likes you a lot. Your age just came as a shock.”

“Do you think she’ll take me anyway?”

“She already did.”

Kíli blinked. Fíli couldn’t see that, but when Kíli didn’t answer he continued.

“I lost movement in my legs, not my eyesight.”

Kíli shifted so he could look into Fíli’s face again. “I’m sure we will sort that out. How are your legs?”

“I think I’ve regained some feeling. It feels different now than the phantom pain at the beginning.”

“That’s great. Hang on, let me take a look.” Kíli helped Fíli to settle down more comfortably again. Then he scooted to the foot-end of the bed to lift the cover.

Fíli chuckled. “How do you plan to see my sensations?”

Kíli didn’t react, he just pinched Fíli’s big toe. There was no reaction. Kíli pinched two more toes with the same result. Then he dragged his finger nail across the sole of Fíli’s foot.

Fíli puckered his brow. “Did you just touch my foot?”

“What do you think?” Kíli tickled him lightly.

“I feel something. Something odd. On the sole of my foot.”

“Which one?”

“The right one.”

Kíli beamed. Fíli beamed back. He couldn’t find words.

Kíli continued to test his brother’s sensation. Pinching, caressing, poking. Fíli felt some. Then he lifted his hands.

“Stop it Kíli. I start to imagine I feel your fingers everywhere.”

“You made progress!” Kíli bounced on his heels. 

*

Tauriel’s truly surprising inspection routed one drunken guard on duty. She felt better after she had given him a dressing-down. She was ready to face the dwarves again. 

Once she entered the room, she was astonished by the big smiles that greeted her.

“Kíli? Fíli?”

“Tauriel!” Kíli would have jumped off the bed had his condition allowed it. He scrambled off it as quickly as he could to stand in front of her.

“Fíli got some of his sensations back! I pinched his toes!”

She couldn’t help but smile. She looked at Fíli, who smiled back.

“Those are fantastic news. I will send for a healer immediately. They need to check on you. More systematically perhaps.”

Her voice became more serious when she looked back to Kíli, but she still addressed Fíli.

“Your brother and I have to talk anyway.

Kíli blinked at her. “We do?”

“We do,” she confirmed. As gruffly as she could when looking into his eyes. Kíli swallowed. His eyes searched out Fíli’s in a silent plea for help. But Fíli shook his head. His smirk was part mocking, part pitying. But it told Kíli that his older brother couldn’t help him. Tauriel smiled at Fíli again, then she took Kíli’s hand and dragged him out of the room.


	16. Grown up?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tauriel is not pleased

“Where are we going?” Kíli asked as Tauriel dragged him through the hallway. Tauriel didn’t deign to answer. She first made a stop in the chambers of healing. Dinendal, who had developed an academic interest in dwarfish anatomy, assured them that he would check on Fíli. He also admonished Kíli not to pinch his brother anymore.

Tauriel led Kíli to her own room. She was glad that it was not too far away from the chambers of healing. It made sense for the guards not to be far away from the healers. And her room was the only place where she could have a private conversation with Kíli. Away from prying eyes and ears.

“Sit down,” she invited him once she closed the door. She glanced at his chest with some worry. Maybe she should have taken more care when she dragged him along.

Kíli sat down onto the bed. His movements were still a bit awkward. He looked up at her, with a question in his big, dark eyes. She stood in front of him, without her usual courtesy of coming down to his level.

“When exactly did you plan to tell me that you are not grown-up?”

“I ….” Kíli blinked. “I just thought it didn’t matter?”

Tauriel correctly interpreted that as “never.” She rubbed her forehead.

“Of course it matters!”

She uttered some curses in Sindarin. Then she shook her head.

“How could I … Kíli, you’re practically a child!”

“I’mS not! It’s only three more years!”

“That’s not now.”

“I’ve travelled from Ered Luin as a guard for traders for years. I told you I made it as far as Dunland! And then I travelled from Ered Luin to the Lonely Mountains with the company. I fought Orcs. And wargs. I fought in the battle. How can you think that I am a child?”

“That is a good argument,” she conceded. She finally sat down next to him on the bed. “It’s just … it’s bad enough that I’ve fallen for a dwarf. And to hear that this dwarf is not grown-up, that’s a blow.”

“Will the others care?”

“I care,” she admitted. “And it explains some of the odd looks I got from those few elves who have some experience with dwarves.” She balled her fists. “Seriously, Kíli. You wanted me to meet your family in Erebor without telling me that you’re not an adult?”

“Thorin considers me an adult. He wouldn’t have taken a child on this journey.”

“I am not acquainted with your uncle. But from what I have heard, especially about his short stay here, I assume that his mind works with a logic similar to that of Thranduil. He might have taken you to reclaim the mountain. To allow his underage nephew to attach himself to an elf might be a very different matter.”

“He will be happy to see us alive, especially because he thought he saw Fíli die with his own eyes. He won’t care that much about what I’m doing.”

She frowned. “He doesn’t care about your well-being?”

“I didn’t mean that. But Fíli's his heir. He trained him for years. And he just found out that he hasn’t lost him.”

“He doesn’t seem very likeable.”

“Why?” Kíli looked up to her with slanted brows. “He’s the best uncle I could ask for. Once he got over his gold sickness, of course.”

Tauriel shrugged. That wasn’t the subject she was interested in right now.

“Be that as it may. Could you explain what it means for us that you’re underage?”

Kíli looked at his feet and shuffled them a little. “Only that I can’t marry.”

“And you thought that didn’t matter? Elves are usually engaged for one year, not three.”

“Well ….” He still looked at his feet, but he was smiling slightly. “There is so much to be fixed and cleaned up in the mountain. There needs to be a proper coronation for Thorin. All that needs to be prepared, before I have time to propose properly, as a Prince of Erebor.”

“So you did give this some thought after all.” Her lips thinned with irritation. “Is there anything else I should know? Like why dwarves at your age are considered too immature to marry?”

Kíli looked up again.

“I didn’t make the rules!” he protested. “I’m not too immature. I’m ready for anything.”

She shook her head and sighed. “It does explain some things.”

“Explain what?” He grabbed her hand. “Look, I know what I’m doing, I promise. I’m sure I want to marry you.”

“I hope so.” She looked at their intertwined hands. “But fickleness can be a pitfall of youth. I will understand if you change your mind.”

“Nonsense!” He straightened in righteous outrage. “I will never change my mind. You’re the only woman I’ll ever want. I want to marry you and have a family.”

“Fickleness is the best reason I can think of. And …” She had to add, “it was immature not to tell me the truth, you know.”

Kíli gasped. “Why is it immature if I know what I want?”

“That’s not what I meant. I meant your delaying tactics so you wouldn’t have to confess that your underage. None of your family and friends are known as friends of the elves. Do you expect them not to react negatively when you bring an adult elf to the mountain as the woman you want to marry? Do you have any idea how humiliating it would have been for me to learn of this under such circumstances?”

“I would have talked to them before they met you,” Kíli assured her.

She didn’t ask how he would have accomplished that. Or what excuse he would have used to delay her arrival in Erebor. She just sighed again. It became a bothersome habit.

“I hope so.”

Something occurred to her and her eyes grew slightly. “You are not even fully grown, are you? Literally. A healer … oh, Elbereth.” She let go of his hand to cover her face with her own hands. “A healer asked me when dwarves started to send their children to war. Just when we arrived.”

Kíli rubbed his hand on his chin. Her eyes were covered, but she could her the scratching sound of the bristle on his hand.

“Um … you see … usually dwarves my age have more beard. That’s why. But it will grow,” his voice was becoming more cheerful again. “My mother said that her brothers’ beards came late too. And I fill out some more too.”

“Fill out more?”

Kíli blinked. “Well, I’d like to be as broad as Thorin. But I have a few decades left to grow.”

Tauriel had only a vague idea about the typical built of dwarves. She hadn’t really paid attention to anyone but Kíli. She thought he was already quite broad.

“I have much to learn,” was all she could reply.

He ducked his head. “I could try to eat less?” he suggested. “Maybe I’ll remain this lanky then? If you like this better.”

“That’s the irrational idea of a child. You cannot change the development of your body,” she replied harshly. She hadn’t meant to be this sharp, but she was ashamed that he had read her thoughts.

Kíli shrank back. He had never seen Tauriel angry before. Not with him at least. He took a deep, pained breath and slid off the bed.

“I … I’m sorry I disappointed you. Again.” He didn’t look up to her, as he gave her a slight bow. “I go back to Fíli now. Good night.”

It wasn’t night yet, but he didn’t stop to correct himself. The bow had been painful. But he managed to shuffle out quickly.

Tauriel opened her mouth to stop him, but found not words.

*

Contrary to his uncle, Kíli had an excellent sense of direction. He found his way back to his room almost blindly. He remembered just in time to close the door softly. Fíli might be asleep. He crept to his bed. Once he had pulled the blankets over himself, he couldn’t suppress his frustration anymore. His breathing became unsteady as he shivered inside his warm little cocoon.

Fíli wasn’t sleeping. Dinendal had left just before Kíli had arrived. The healer had been optimistic and Fíli’s mood was too good to fall asleep. He had heard Kíli creep in and frowned. This didn’t seem to fit in with the usual energy the other dwarf radiated.

It was so quiet in the room, that he could hear Kíli’s uneven breathing.

“Kíli?” he called, turning his head to the lump on the other bed. Why was Kíli hiding?

“Huh?” Kíli stuck his head out.

“Are you …” Fíli stopped the silly question. “Do you want to tell me?”

“It’s nothing.” Kíli hiccupped and dug his fingers in his blanket.

“You don’t have to tell me, but I can see it isn’t nothing.”

“It’s just. Tauriel. I think … I think,” there was a loud gulp “… she doesn’t want me anymore. I’m too young for her.”

“Oh.” Fíli cursed his injuries. He wanted to go over to the other bed and sit down next to the distressed Kíli. “Are you sure?”

“She was so shocked when I told her that I will become broader. And hairier.”

“And you think she doesn’t want you anymore because of that?”

“She thought I’ll always be this lanky.”

“And if you fill out, she won’t be interested anymore?”

“Looked like it.”

“So she didn’t say that.” Fíli sighed and did his best to look and sound as soothing as possible. “It will be okay, Kíli. She wouldn’t just give you up.”

Kíli sat up.

“Can I sleep in your bed tonight?”

Fíli blinked. That didn’t seem to be a very mature request. But he didn’t want to disappoint.

“Just try to be careful, ok?”

“Of course.” Kíli smiled a little and climbed out of his bed with his blankets. Fíli patted the spot beside himself in invitation.

“Thank you Fíli.” Kíli was cautious as he lay down next to his brother. It took a while for them both to settle down so they were both comfortable. Then Fíli lifted his hand stiffly to pat Kíli’s head.

“It’s no problem. I don’t like to see you upset.”

Petting Kíli’s surprisingly soft hair felt a bit familiar. He remembered this texture. He didn’t share that epiphany with his brother. Kíli was just calming down and closing his eyes.


	17. Big brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli is still an awesome big brother

The next morning Fíli woke up first. He looked wistfully at the brown mop of hair at his side. Kíli’s face was hidden somewhere in the pillow. The sight seemed so familiar. Very familiar actually. He frowned, when he suddenly saw the picture of a small child in his mind. A small, brown-haired dwarfling, who cuddled against him. His little brother. The one he was responsible for somehow. He sighed. It was good to finally have a sense of memory. But of course now he worried even more about the fight between Kíli and Tauriel. He played with Kíli’s hair as he contemplated if there was anything he could do to help.

*

It wasn’t long before Kíli shifted a little. He blinked at Kíli and cleared his throat.

“Good morning,” he whispered, his voice still heavy with sleep.

“Good morning,” the blonde answered, feeling his way. “Are you feeling better?”

Kíli sighed and lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. How are you?”

Fíli smirked. “Well, I didn’t have a fight with my lover yesterday. Instead I am with my little brother. All in all, that is good, I’d say.”

The younger dwarf sighed again, his eyes narrowing a little. “I just don’t know what to do next. I don’t know what she is going to do …”

“Hmm.” Fíli played with Kíli’s hair again. “Are you sure you want her?”

“Only her,” Kíli confirmed immediately. “When I saw how she was nearly killed by this stinking orc, I …. Well I felt nearly as bad as when I saw you …” He swallowed. “And I hardly knew her so … that means something, right?”

“It does. You need to try something new then. Start to think.”

Kíli blew up his cheeks. Fíli had to laugh, pleased that he had managed to stop Kíli’s descent into despair. Then he stopped abruptly. Out of the darkness in his head, a flood of images poured into his mind. Nothing like a complete memory. But all of the sudden he knew that his little brother always looked like this when he was annoyed but tried to concentrate. A combination that occured surprisingly often.

Kíli deflated his cheeks and cocked his head. “Fíli? Are you all right?”

“Memories,” Fíli mumbled before he could stop himself. He hadn’t wanted to detract from Kíli’s problem. His brother’s eyes widened. “You remembered us together?”

“No, I remembered you. And how cute you are when you try to think but fail.”

“Don’t be like that …”

Fíli laughed again and pulled on a strand of Kíli’s hair.

“Most memories are of you as a dwarfling. And you were definitely a very cute dwarfling.”

“Yes, I was cute as a _dwarfling_.”

“And we have to convince Tauriel that you’re not a dwarfling anymore,” Fíli reminded him. “Not blowing up your cheeks could be a first step though. You’re definitely still cute when you do that.”

“All right, all right,” Kíli grumbled.

“Don’t worry too much. She will come here sooner or later. And if she doesn’t, we ask someone to fetch her. Then you convince her that you’re old enough to have a relationship.”

“And we have to convince Thranduil to let us go to our family,” Kíli added.

“Is that before or after you reconcile with Tauriel?”

“After of course.”

“Good. It’s not like I can leave anytime soon anyway.”

He didn’t care all that much about returning to a place and a family he didn’t remember.

“Can we get back to Tauriel? What is it that bothers her most?”

“That I’m underage.”

“And do you understand her a little bit at least?”

“It’s not like I knew how old she was, when we met.” Kíli pursed his lips in defiance.

Fíli rubbed his forehead. “Stop sulking, Kíli. I know all your justifications. I just asked, if you understand that it bothers you.”

Kíli looked down at the blanket. Then he gave a tiny nod. “Yes.”

“And did you tell her that?”

“No ….” Kíli’s voice was quiet now. “I guess I didn’t.”

“And?” Fíli prompted him.

“Should I tell her, that I understand why she is upset? What good will that do?”

“Mahal help me.” Fíli didn’t notice that this was the first time since he woke up, that he appealed to his maker. “Was I always the one who had to do all the thinking? It would prove that you’re mature, Kíli.”

“Well, I’m immature then.” Kíli frowned.

“You are,” Fíli growled, but then he smiled. Affection shone in his eyes. “Does it injure your pride that much if you admit you made a mistake?”

“I just don’t know how,” Kíli admitted.

“Look, all you need to know is that you should apologize and tell her, that she has a reason to be a bit upset. You don’t need to plan how to do it.” He patted Kíli his head. “I'd scold her too, you know, but I can’t.”

“Why not? I can tell someone to fetch her!”

Fíli laughed. “So I can scold her, or so you can talk to her?”

“Both,” Kíli beamed.

Fíli tousled his younger brother’s hair. “She’ll be busy now. But once she’s here, I’ll tell her that she isn’t allowed to make my baby brother sad, all right?”

“You’re the best.” Kíli still beamed, but then he complained that he was hungry.

*

Breakfast arrived shortly after that, punctually as usual. It was better every morning. An sign that more and more elves had recovered from their wounds. Things returned to normal in Thranduil’s realm. They were still eliminating pancakes with berries, when an unknown elf arrived. She introduced herself as one of Tauriel’s friends and delivered a heap of clothes. Apparently Tauriel had decided, as captain of the guards, that the confiscated clothes should be returned. Even though nobody had time to wash or repair it. They were still busy with their own clothes.

*

Tauriel herself came after lunch. Her face was void of any expression.

“Tauriel!”

Kíli threw the cloak, he had been examining, away. He stepped up to her.

“Tauriel, I am so sorry. I should have known, my age was important to you. I am sorry I never told you I am a bit underage still.”

Her face relaxed into something that approached a smile. “And I am sorry I reacted so harshly.”

“As you should be,” Fíli mumbled, crossing his arms. She looked at him, but didn’t respond.

“Are we all right?” Kíli asked cautiously.

“I am still confused,” she admitted, with an apologetic expression. “I need to adjust.”

“Well, it looks like we have time.” Kíli still smiled bravely. “Did you hear anything from Thranduil? About us and Thorin?”

He had just tried to change the subject. But Thranduil was the wrong keyword. Her lips thinned. She had had to endure a discussion with the king in the morning. It concerned her replacement as captain. Thranduil seemed to assume that she would leave soon. The talk had been awkard. Tauriel was not so sure about her immediate future anymore, but hadn’t wanted to divulge that. She straightened her shoulders.

“Thorin has sent a message, that he would send the jewels. And that finding them was a top priority. He also demanded more information on your condition.” She smiled briefly. “Don’t worry, you will return to Erebor. But that is in the future. Before any of that happens, we need to talk. Later. When were are both calm.”

“I’m always ready to talk with you.” He took her hand. She let him hold it, but remained passive. Instead she gestured towards the pile of clothes with her free hand.

“Are your clothes among them? It’s time for you to move around more and I thought you might be more comfortable to do that in your own clothes.”

“Well, those are only our coats and vests, of course. You did leave us our trousers, after all.”

He winked and she had to smile a bit.

“You know what I mean. I can also bring the trousers and the tunic you arrived with, but you’d have to wash and mend it yourself. But I can also bring you some robes from the guards here, if you’d prefer that.”

“Washing and mending? Don’t you have any women to do that?”

Her smile disappeared and she scowled. “First of all, yes of course we have women. I am one. And second, no, we are not responsible for your clothes. And third, in case you missed that, there was this battle recently. Many elves have fallen or where injured. We are a bit busy dealing with the aftermath of that. Do it yourself or leave it. Just don't expect someone to do it for you.”

Kíli ducked his head. “Sorry.”

“So do you want them or not?”

“Yes please.”

She nodded, slightly satisfied.

“Good. You’re too broad for the efling’s robes. Should I look for them now?”

Kíli just nodded, feeling contrite, and climbed back onto Fíli’s bed. Fíli scowled at Tauriel, as the elf turned on her heels and headed out again. Then he looked at his brother.

“Well, that could have gone better.”

“At least she’s not that hung up on my age any more?”

“I don’t think that subject is closed.”

“Afraid not.” Kíli rubbed his cheeks. “Anyway, I found your coat.” He reached down to the floor next to the bed and pulled the garment up. He put it on Fíli’s lap. “Maybe that will trigger some memories?”

Fíli fingered the fabric. “Seems vaguely familiar, I guess?” He patted the fur. “It’s beautiful, in any case. Come on, show me yours. I want to see what you look like in them.”

“It’ll look ridiculous without my trousers and boots.”

“I wouldn’t say that the tunic you’re wearing right now flatters you. How much worse can it get?”

Silently admitting that his was a fair point, Kíli got up again. He pulled on his vest and coat. The familiar weight was immediately comforting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that is all that we ever posted on fanfiktion.de The next chapters will be all new material, never before published ;)  
> Thorin and Bilbo will show up again in the next update, which will come soon.  
> Hope you enjoyed the interaction between the brothers though, that was what we most enjoyed writing anyway!  
> Oh, and considering people still seem to be reading this: I'd appreciate any feedback on the chapter length. Should I keep them as short as they are now in the future? Or should I make them longer?  
> Also, I've got a tumblr even if though it confuses me: [my tumblr](http://chelidona.tumblr.com/)


	18. Bath time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kíli takes a bath. And has a talk.

Only a few rooms away, Tauriel struggled with different feelings. The clothes of the injured dwarves had been put away properly. She had encountered no difficulty in finding them. Kíli’s tunic, his trousers and his armour had not been cleaned but they were neatly stacked. The sight of the ugly tear in the chest area and the dried blood were nearly too much. Tauriel needed the entire inner strength that had developed over 600 years not to break down. She took a deep breath and grabbed the trousers.

*

When she returned and saw Kíli looking cheerful and alive, she was so relieved that she beamed at him. As if there hadn’t been any tension.

“Kíli.”

He swept around and looked up. “Tauriel. You’ve got my trousers?”

“Yes.” Her voice trembled only a little. “I think we need to get rid of the tunic. I will bring you a pair of scissors and a needle. And thread. You can shorten one of ours.”

“Don’t bother, I’ll just cram it into my trousers.”

He did that right away. He looked healthier already, just by being in normal clothes.

“Good.” She let herself sink into the chair next to Fíli’s bed. The older dwarf seemed a bit confused by this change in her mood. Tauriel just looked Kíli up and down, as if to make sure that he was really in front of her.

Kíli was chirpy today. His chest hardly hurt anymore, as long as he didn’t strain himself. He twirled in the middle of the room, to present his restored outfit to his brother.

Fíli laughed quietly next to Tauriel. He couldn’t remember anything palpable, but he sort of remembered seeing Kíli in those clothes. And there were others next to him, even if he couldn’t remember their features. He told Kíli so and his brother bounced up to him, looking excited.

“You have to put on your own coat, maybe it will bring more memories? You’ve got that thing for three years now and you’re always wearing it.”

Tauriel grabbed his wrist before he could push the coat into his brother’s chest. She shook her head.

“This will be too risky. He injured his back. It is healing, but I fear that squeezing himself into this heavy coat, will undo some of the progress. We will have to wait until Dinendal approves.”

“He makes such good progress, that will be soon.” Kíli winked at his brother. Fíli laughed.

“Yes, soon.”

Tauriel released Kíli’s wrist and nodded. “That is likely. Dwarves are remarkably hardy and recover quickly from injuries. We did not expect you to make so much progress.”

“While we’re talking about that …. Could I maybe take a bath?” Kíli looked at her with shining eyes. Contrary to what elves seemed to believe, dwarves were cleanly in general. (Not perhaps, when they were trekking through a forest or inhospitable land. But right now, Kíli started to feel grubby.)

Tauriel looked sheepish. “That is a good idea. Your wound is healed enough.”

When Kíli had arrived, his unconscious body had been given a perfunctory sponge bath. But nobody had considered offering a bath to the dwarf since then. “I will have a tub delivered to the bathroom, will that suit you?”

“That’s great. I guess you don’t want to share it with me?”

She blushed fiercely. “Yes,” she choked out. “I … I … I assume I will have to help you with your wound, if you mean that, but …” She broke off, feeling bashful.

“But?” Kíli pressed her.

“But I need to fetch the tub and water.” She dashed out of the room.

*

When she was gone, Kíli hit is own forehead. “I’m a moron.”

Fíli didn’t even try to hide his smirk. “You are. But at least, we’ve confirmed that she finds you attractive.”

“Have we?” Kíli asked dubiously.

“Why else would she have been so embarrassed?”

“Because I’m stupid? She’s a pure elf maiden and from what we know, they're prudes.”

“That could be a reason,” Fíli conceded. Then he fixed his younger brother with a sceptical stare.

“How many dwarf maidens have you shared a bath with?”

“Um …” Kíli started counting on his fingers. Fíli sighed and rubbed his forehead.

“All right. Don’t tell her that.”

“I shouldn’t lie to her, should I? It were only four, by the way. And the first was Alenna when we were eight. You were with us too. We were all half frozen after a snowball fight.”

“Well, you can tell her that story,” Fíli assured him. “But you’re not eight anymore.”

“And that's good. I want to do a bit more with Tauriel than sit in the tub and throw water at her face.”

"Keep that thought to yourself, please."

*

It took a while until Tauriel returned, two tall elves in tow. They brought a large wooden tub to the bathroom and soon they were busy carrying in steaming hot water. One of the other elves didn’t bother to hide his grin when it became plain how flustered Tauriel was.

Once the tub was filled, the two elves withdrew. Tauriel handed Kíli a large towel.

“Do you need help?” she asked faintly.

They were in the bathroom. Kíli had already gotten rid of his coat, his vest and his trousers in the bedroom, and was only clad in his tunic again.

“I’ll have to see if I can take this off by myself,” he admitted. “Lifting my arms up and twisting is still a bit painful.”

Tauriel tightened her jaw in determination. She nodded and focussed on the wall behind Kíli.

“Try it. I will help you if you can’t.”

Kíli turned around politely and tried to get rid of the garment.

“Can you do it?” she asked when it became evident that he wasn’t successful.

“I can’t lift my left arm high enough,” he admitted.

She told herself that it was no different from helping an injured elf. And she had done that countless times. She stepped to him to help get the tunic over his left side. It was just that other elves were not so warm and muscular and inviting. She managed to keep her hands from trembling when the tunic finally slid over his head and arms.

“Ouch.” Kíli groaned. “What about the dressing?”

“I’ve brought fresh stripes of cloth. Dinendal said if you are careful, it would be okay to take the old one off. It needed to be changed soon anyway.”

“Can you get it off?”

“Sure.”

She took a deep breath. This meant getting closer than she was comfortable with right now. She did her best to remain efficient and detached. But she couldn’t help sneaking a few good looks at Kíli’s body. He was hairy, but not as furry as she had feared. His shoulders and back were nearly as smooth as that of an elf. It was actually enticing.

Once Kíli was naked, he looked at his wound. He prodded it with a finger tip.

“It’s scabbed. Looks sort of harmless like this.”

It didn’t, but she just nodded. She did her best not to focus on the wound that nearly cost him his life.

“Do you think it will leave a scar?” Kíli mused, still standing in front of the tub.

“That is likely. Get in.”

“It’s so high,” Kíli complained.

“Don’t act as if elves are giants. You can get in.”

Kíli grumbled. He didn’t like the idea of awkwardly clambering in the tub in front of Tauriel, but it couldn’t be helped.

“Should I leave you in peace now?” Tauriel enquired.

Kíli shook his head, as he lowered himself gingerly . “Please stay? We’re alone now, we could talk?”

Tauriel swallowed but nodded. She dragged a stool from the corner and sat down next to the tub.

“I don’t know where to start.”

Kíli’s gaze rested on the stool. “Hey, you could have given me that thing to help me get in here!”

“I forgot,” she claimed. She didn’t realise that Kíli’s gaze had now wandered to her bottom. It was sticking out over the edge of the stool as she leant forward slightly to balance on the dainty thing. The angle was interesting and Kíli appreciated the view. Kíli finally dragged his eyes up to her face.

“Tell me what worries you most?”

She sighed. “I don’t even know. It was such a shock when you told me you’re underage. I've been a grown-up for centuries. We don’t have many elflings and to hear you say that your body still develops. That’s just so odd. You’re so young.”

“Well …” he scratched his nose. “Dwarves mature differently, I guess.” He always tried to ignore her age and immortality. “And I'm not that young.”

“You’re too young to marry!” she answered sharply. “Why can’t you see that that matters!”

“I do, of course. But look, it’s only 2 ½ years.”

“I’m an elf, we can wait,” Tauriel explained. “Waiting is not the problem at all. If you told me that dwarven engagements last for 5 or 10 years, I would accept that. I am upset that you don’t want to understand why your secrecy hurt me.”

“If you would have known back in the forest … what then?”

“I …” she was silent for a moment. She had never asked that question. “I would have saved you from the spiders of course.”

“And in the dungeon?”

“I would have done my round and I assume I would have talked to you. You fascinated me and you were more open than the other dwarves. I would have guarded my heart, though.”

“Guarded your heart? How can one rule one’s heart?”

“Not easily, I noticed,” she retorted, feeling put-off. “I guess you are right. I would have fallen in love with you anyway.”

Kíli’s smile was unusually soft. “I'm glad.”

“You’re a conceited youngster,” she informed him, then she frowned. “You know, that is the problem.”

“That I’m conceited? You know, you can help me grow out of that.”

He winked but Tauriel put her head in her hands. “That’s wrong. So wrong. I feel …” She shook herself. “Your comment about the food didn’t help either.”

“It was just a suggestion?”

“A foolish one! Are you even listening to yourself? You describe an orc!”

That exclamation startled Kíli. “What? Never! No, I never meant that!”

“You think I’d prefer you to keep an immature shape! And I fall in love with a dwarf when other elves assure me that he is practically a child! That is not normal!” Tauriel’s voice nearly broke.

Kíli scowled. “Don’t listen to elves when it comes to dwarves. They don’t have a clue. I haven’t been considered a child for a long time. I would never have fallen for you if I was."

Tauriel looked at the floor, feeling calmer after her outburst. She nodded slowly. “That is true, I suppose. And three years are not long when compared to 78. I was – am just overwhelmed. It’s so much at once. The battle, losing friends, nearly losing you, finding out you can’t even marry me ….”

“We have time to adjust,” he said, and his voice was not that of a child. “You said it yourself. Give this a chance, please.”

She looked up at him and smiled.

“Would I sit here if I didn’t?”

He smiled back and stretched out his hand. She took it gently and they sat in silence for a while. Then she pressed his fingers.

“I am sorry I hurt you yesterday. I was angry. But more at myself.”

“I …” Kíli cleared his throat. “I was considering running away from here. Probably wouldn’t have come far, but, well, I didn’t want to stay here, if you … you didn’t …” He swallowed. “Well, Fíli was there so I didn’t even try anything stupid.”

“You _are_ reckless,” she said with a wan smile. She petted his hair. That seemed to be the safest spot at the moment. “I would never have forgiven myself if anything had happened to you.”

“But I am here, with you. And I’m fine. And even finer once I am out of this and clean.”

He closed his eyes and relished in Tauriel’s caresses.


	19. Leaving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin wants to go to see his nephews. Bilbo tries to stop him.

While his nephews were in good spirits in Thranduil’s realm, Thorin was growing ever more impatient in Erebor. Even Bilbo had a hard time calming him down. They had found most of the stones. And Thorin was determined he would deliver them in person. He was convinced that he was well enough.

Oín and Bilbo disagreed. Balin’s worried face told all present, apart from Thorin, that the old advisor remembered Thorin’s diplomatic encounters with Thranduil all too well. But he just shook his head and told Thorin not to be stubborn.

Once Thorin and Bilbo were alone, Bilbo made one more attempt to dissuade the king.

“Thorin. Just wait. I’m sure we’ll have news about Fíli and Kíli soon.”

“I need to see them, with my own eyes,” Thorin practically wailed.

“Look, we all understand that. But – look at it this way. You _will_ see them. They’re alive, and you will see them. But leave the talking and bargaining to Balin.”

“I will. I won’t say a word.”

Bilbo mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “Would be the first time.” But he straightened and put on a cheerful and optimistic mien. “It’s a miracle they survived.”

Thorin nodded. He rubbed his hands until he had a new suggestion. “You should come with me. You can make sure I’ll be quiet.”

“And how exactly am I going to accomplish that? Stare a hole in the back of your head with my disapproving glares while you’re screaming at Thranduil?”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

“Nothing that wouldn’t get me into trouble.”

“I have faith in you.”

Thorin’s expression made it clear that he assumed that he would travel to the Mirkwood. He was the king, after all. But he wasn’t Bilbo’s king, and the hobbit’s mouth tightened in determination.

“I will hide your clothes,” he threatened, not quite joking. His mind was busy coming up with alternative schemes.

Thorin just smiled. “We’ll see.”

*

The next morning Bilbo was on his way to the entrance. He wanted to watch dwarves from the Iron Hills prepare the ponies for their trip and to wish Balin a good journey. What he hadn’t expected to see, but should have expected, was Thorin. The king was leading his pony in that direction. The hallway was empty but for the two of them and Bilbo hastened after him.

“Thorin!”

“Yes, my friend?” Thorin slowed a little. Bilbo overtook him and blocked the path as well as he could.

“Stubbornness of dwarves is fine and all that, but you’re acting like a toddler.” He glared at Thorin, who felt reminded of his time as a dwarfling. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Riding to the Mirkwood to see my nephews. Once I’ve done that, I’ll return and I’ll be a good patient. I promise.”

“You know where your nephews are, don’t you? With whom? That elvish king, the one who hasn’t answered our last message yet? The one, you insulted in his own realm while you were his prisoner, and the one you shot an arrow at? You’re good at acting all majestic, but you suck at diplomacy.”

Bilbo stopped himself and bit his cheek. That wasn’t how one talked to a king. Thorin looked stunned.

“Would you kindly return to your chamber?” Bilbo tried more politely.

“You don’t understand, do you?”

Bilbo sighed. “Yes, I do. I may not know how you feel because I don’t have any children. Or nephews I’m close to. But yes, I understand. And that’s part of the reason why I try to dissuade you. If you weren’t so stubborn, you could see that.”

“I can’t until I’ve made sure they’re all right.”

“Would you risk keeping them away for longer?”

“Thranduil is not such a monster.”

“You’re the one who always described him as a monster,” Bilbo reminded him. “And I’m sure he’ll let them come to Erebor as soon as they’re healed. As long as you don’t do anything rash. Wobbling into his halls, uninvited, is not helpful. As soon as we’ve got a message from him, we can write back and inquire _politely_ if you may come to see your nephews.”

“Or I could send him a raven right now. To let him know I’m coming. If he objects, I’ll get the reply on the road. Ravens are smart.”

“Go. To. Bed. And. Trust. People. Calmer. Than. Yourself.” Bilbo tousled his own hair. “Please?” he added.

Thorin was quiet.

“Thorin?”

“Bilbo. I can’t …”

“Yes, you can. Just remember, you’ll see them soon enough.”

“I didn’t mean that … I can’t … walk anymore.”

Bilbo noticed only now how Thorin was gripping the horse’s saddle. His knuckles were white. The hobbit cursed.

“Darned majestic pigheaded dwarf.” He looked around. Where were the other dwarves when one needed them? The pony was getting restless and Thorin couldn’t hold on much longer.

Bilbo knew from experience that he wouldn’t be able to support Thorin all the way back to his chamber. Helping him from his bed to his sitting room was about as much as he could handle. He felt very inadequate.

“Bilbo?”

“Come on, let’s sit you down.”

Bilbo looked around. And yes, at least, one bit of luck. Not too far from them was a little ledger. He helped Thorin get there.

“You stay here while I take the horse back and get Dwalin,” he admonished the king. Thorin smiled a bit.

“I have no other choice.”

*

Bilbo managed to get rid of the pony soon enough and found Dwalin in no time. The parts of Erebor that were currently in use still only covered a small area. And Bilbo knew that Balin was mostly occupied with the weaponry at the moment. The large dwarf reaction was just as Bilbo had hoped. He jumped up, scowling. He forgot himself far enough to swear in Khuzdul as he hurried back to Thorin with Bilbo. As they came closer to Thorin, Dwalin restrained himself. But Thorin’s smile still faded when he looked up at Dwalin’s face.

“I heard you need help,” Dwalin asked gruffly.

Thorin grimaced. “I overdid it.”

Bilbo and Dwalin both snorted. Dwalin’s snort was scarier though.

“Do I need to carry you?”

Thorin frowned. “I am still the king. I will not be carried. I can walk if you support me. Bilbo is just not strong enough.”

None of the dwarves saw Bilbo wince at those words. Dwalin was busy putting his arm around Thorin’s broad middle.

Bilbo knew that dwarves were just, as a general rule, stronger than hobbits. But it hurt to be so useless.

*

Their progress back to Thorin’s chambers was slow. Thorin needed a break every couple of steps. When they were nearly at his door. He sighed.

“I am sorry.”

Dwalin shook his head while Bilbo opened the door.

“We all worry about the lads. But we also worry about you.”

Thorin mumbled something, but he was quiet until Bilbo and Dwalin had him settled on his bed. Thorin looked at Bilbo.

“Will you go in my stead?”

“Excuse me?”

“Will you go? That elf likes you.”

“I think that is an overstatement. But he’s forgiven me for my role in your escape.” He worked his mouth. “But yes, he likes me more than dwarves. I’ll go if you swear to remain in your bed at all times until I’m back.”

Dwalin stared at him. But Thorin nodded.

“I promise.”

“I said swear, not promise.”

“I swear by Durin’s beard. And I break this oath, I’ll shave off my own beard.”

They both ignored the outrage on Dwalin’s face.

“Should I fetch Oín?” Bilbo asked.

“I’ll fetch him,” Dwalin interjected before Thorin could answer. “Bilbo needs to prepare for the journey, they’re leaving today.”

*

The preparations were hasty. Thorin wrote a quick letter to Thranduil, Balin decided that if Bilbo was going, he was not needed. Instead, Thorin asked Dwalin to go and look after the hobbit. He was holding Bilbo’s hand as they were gathered around his bed for final instructions. Thorin seemed loath to let Bilbo go after all. Dwalin lingered a bit while Balin already ushered Bilbo out to find a pony for him.

“You like the hobbit,” he remarked with a scowl.

“Am I that obvious?” Thorin asked and Dwalin snorted again.

“You held his hand just now.” His expression said that a king should not need to be informed when he was being dense. Thorin shrugged.

“There’s nothing I can do about it, apart from trying to keep him here.”

“Yes, you gave him the Arkenstone. I heard. But he misses his shire.”

“We can build him a little smial at the foot of the mountain. Maybe we can pay some hobbit artisans to come here, so everything looks just like at home. And we will send for all his furniture too.”

Dwalin crossed his arms. “Thorin. Are there any rolling hills around here? Gentle hobbits that till the soil, smoke their pipe-weed and eschew violence? We are dwarves, Thorin. We are not his people.”

“You should fall in love, my friend, so you would understand.”

“Does the hobbit know about your feelings?”

Thorin shook his head.

“Why didn’t you just tell him?”

“He’s … he’s such an honourable hobbit. So naïve despite everything that happened.”

“Thorin, you are the king under the mountain. Our leader who led our people through trying times. Your love will not soil a hobbit.”

“I tried to kill him.”

“When you were in the throes of your sickness! You’ve overcome that!”

“Yes.” Thorin stroked his beard. “Anyway. You need to get going, my friend. I count on your success with Thranduil.”

“I will let Bilbo handle that tree shagger, and we’ll be fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So two chapters that were never published before :) (I should possibly get on with publishing them on fanfiktion.de). Hope you enjoyed.
> 
> Also, I've got a tumblr. Yay.   
> [tumblr](http://chelidona.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I mainly reblog anything connected to Kíli, Fíli and their actors, and occasionally other nerdy stuff. And very occasionally something about my fanfiction.


	20. Visitors for the princes

The little group traveling to Thranduil’s realm was made up of five of Dain’s men in addition to Bilbo and Dwalin. A Raven had been sent to alert the elves that they were on their way. Bilbo also carried a letter from Thorin, written in all haste and dictated by Balin. It promised Thranduil that the dwarves were looking for the rest of his jewels. It also expressed Thorin’s gratefulness for the rescue of his nephews.

They arrived at the corner of the Mirkwood two days later. A company of elves was already waiting. Dwalin, in particular, was not happy about their escort. But while the elves were aloof and taciturn, there was no hostility. Upon their arrival, the five guards were immediately led to their accommodation. Bilbo and Dwalin were led to Thranduil. Bilbo bowed politely, and deeper than any hobbit would bow to another in the Shire. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see that Dwalin did the same.

“King Thranduil,” Bilbo began, “we are grateful that you could find the time to receive us directly.”

“Halfling.” Thranduil inclined his head, and a small smile played around his lips. “It pleases me to see you again. I had expected you to be back to your own home again.”

Bilbo smiled back in surprise. “Thank you. I am still taking advantage of the hospitality in Erebor.” Such as it was among the ruins. Thranduil’s raised eyebrows showed his opinion on the ‘hospitality' Erebor was currently able to offer. Bilbo cleared his throat. “King Thorin sent me to express his gratitude for the rescue and care of his nephews.”

Thranduil inclined his head again. “Think nothing of it. It was our pleasure. I hope to improve our relations with Erebor as well.”

Bilbo bowed again in confusion. That seemed to be easier than he thought.

“I am sure you would like to visit the two young princes,” Thranduil continued and rose already. Bilbo and Dwalin could just nod. They were anxious to see the two young dwarves.

“Follow me.”

Thranduil did indeed lead them personally. Bilbo glanced sideways at Dwalin several times. The old warrior seemed tense. Bilbo was a bit nervous too, and attempted to thank Thranduil twice more. But the elf interrupted him both times by waving his hands elegantly in dismissal.

* *

Finally, they stopped in front of an innocuous looking door. The guard that had followed Thranduil opened it. It revealed Kíli, sitting on a chair next to a bed. When the door opened further, they recognized the blond mop of hair besides Kíli.

“You’re alive!” Bilbo exclaimed, feeling exhilarating. Then he deflated a bit and coughed. He glanced up to Thranduil. “I didn’t doubt it."

Kíli jumped up. 

“Bilbo! Dwalin!” The young dwarf pressed his hand to his chest, but the pain seemed to fade with his joy. He whirled towards them and threw his arms around Bilbo.

Surprised, the hobbit patted his back.

“Kíli. It’s good to see you.”

“And you.” Kíli released Bilbo and looked to Dwalin. Before Kíli could come to a decision on how to greet him, Dwalin had pulled him into a hug.

Bilbo looked to Fíli. It was painfully obvious that the diagnosis was correct. The young dwarf had no idea who they were. The crown prince smiled, but he was focused on his brother. He was happy that his brother was happy. He inclined his head, mirroring Thranduil’s movements from earlier.

“Fíli. I’m Bilbo. Your uncle sent Dwalin and me to see you.” He turned a bit, to include Kíli too. Dwalin had released him by now, but Kíli was still beaming and had his hand on Dwalin’s forearm. “Your uncle was delighted to hear that you are alive and cared for here.”

“And how his Thorin?” Kíli asked eagerly.

“His foot his troubling him. Azog stabbed through it after all. Otherwise, he would have come himself.”

Kíli nodded and sat down on the edge of Fíli’s bed, rubbing his chest absent-mindedly. 

“Bilbo is the hobbit I told you about,” he informed his brother. Fíli’s mouth twitched.

“I do remember names,” he teased, then he nodded towards the hobbit and the dwarf. “I am pleased to ….” He halted. “Pleased to see you. I’m sorry I can’t get up to greet you yet.”

He looked up to the king. He had never yet met Thranduil in person. The elf smiled.

“The healers are confident that you will be able to get up soon.”

Fíli beamed. The healers had already told him so, of course, but it was always good to hear it again. And just like his brother’s, his joy was infectious. Bilbo and Dwalin beamed back. Then Bilbo caught himself.

“Those are good news indeed. It’s better than we dared to hope.” He looked up to Thranduil. “I believe I have further business with the king. Maybe Dwalin could stay here?”

Dwalin straightened. “Are you sure you won’t need me?”

“Quite sure,” he claimed. He knew that Thranduil wasn’t easy, but he didn’t think that Dwalin could be of any help. “And I’m also sure that Kíli would love to hear all the news about Erebor and our companions.”

Kíli seemed anxious to hear news, in fact. He looked at Dwalin with his big eyes. And even the tough warrior couldn’t resist those. Bilbo smiled, when he saw Dwalin relent.

“I will return if that is all right with you.”

“You must!” Kíli exclaimed.

* *

When the door closed behind Bilbo and Thranduil, Dwalin sat down on the chair.

“Are they treating you well, lads?”

“Much better than last time we were here!” Kíli chuckled, but Dwalin scowled.

“I bloody hope so.”

“No, really, we are well treated. I believe only the elves could have healed Fíli like that. The elves are not that bad, you know.”

“If you say so.” 

Kíli bit his lip. He didn’t like to hear the suspicion in the old dwarf’s voice.

“You’ll like Tauriel. She’s going to be here soon.”

“Tauriel?”

“The one who saved me. Three times. First from the spiders in the forest, then she healed me in Laketown, and she saved me on the Raven Hill.”

Even Kíli’s mood diminished when he recited all his brushes with death. Dwalin grunted and stared at the wall behind the brothers. Fíli was a bit confused. He put his hand on his brother’s knee, to soothe him.

“She is very nice,” he ventured. “She’s the one who cares for us here.”

“Yes.” Kíli nodded. “I mean, others bring food and stuff, but she organizes everything. And she doesn’t treat us like dwarves. I mean … she just doesn’t see us as that different. We’re just Fíli and Kíli, and she’s Tauriel.”

“An elf.” Dwalin crossed his arms. “She’s an elf, and you’re dwarves. But I will acknowledge what she has done and treat her accordingly.” The words seemed poison to him. Kíli smiled nevertheless.

“You’re going to like her once you’ve met her.”

“I don’t expect any miracles. Don’t get to attached to the tree shaggers. The sooner we can get you to Erebor, the better.”

“Tauriel will come with us,” Kíli blurted out.

Silence descended. Fíli put his hand on Kíli’s knee, feeling apprehensive. Then Dwalin growled something that could be interpreted as “what?”

“Well …. I mean, we became allies in the battle, didn’t we?” Kíli hedged. “Why shouldn’t she come to Erebor with me?”

Dwalin was not known to be quick-witted, but he would have been a fool not to notice that something was going on. He squinted.

“There are enough dwarves to guard you. We’re already in the debt of those ….. elves.”

“But she’s my One!” Kíli blurted out.

Dwalin froze. The two young dwarves barely dared to breathe. Then Dwalin started coughing.

“Say that again!” he demanded. Kíli blushed and bit his lips.

“Well, I am quite sure she …. No, I am certain she is my …”

“You’re too young to be certain!” Dwalin interrupted him before Kíli could say the dreaded word again. “And elf cannot possibly be a dwarf’s One.”

Kíli crossed his arms. “Everything is possible when it comes to love.”

“There has never been love between a dwarf and an elf.”

“Then I’m the first.”

“Kíli, you’re only 77. You have plenty of time. Not every dwarf even has a ‘One’. You’ve always been romantic …..”

“It’s Tauriel.”

“No. That is not possible.” The two stared at each other. Kíli was not the most typical dwarf, but he was just as stubborn as the old warrior. Fíli opened his mouth to support his brother, but Dwalin cut him off.

“Let’s talk about something else. You have no idea how happy Thorin was to hear you’re both alive and doing well, given the circumstances.”

Kíli immediately smiled again. “Oh, we were so happy too to hear that he survived!”

“He wouldn’t be here if it hadn’t been for Bilbo and the wizard,” Dwalin admitted with a sour expression. “And how did you survive? We spent days searching for you.”

“Didn’t I tell you already? Tauriel saved Radagast and me, that weird wizard we met near the troll-camp.”

“And why did that pointy-eared bitch not tell us?”

Kíli scowled. “Oy. Don’t call her that.”

Dwalin ignored his interjection. “Those pointy-ears kidnapped you from the battle-field?”

“Saved me, not kidnapped me! Did you even listen?”

Before Dwalin could answer to that, Fíli propped himself up. “From what I’ve been told, the relations between dwarves and elves were a bit strained. Be happy that they saved Kíli at all!”

Dwalin grunted, but his expression softened. 

“We didn’t know what had happened. After Fíli …” He closed his eyes. “After we all saw Fíli fall, Kíli disappeared.”

“I wanted to make those monsters pay!”

Dwalin shook his head. “Reckless as always.”

But it was understood that his reaction would have been the same, had it been Balin. Fíli, however, had never heard that part again. A crease formed between his brows.

“What happened exactly?”

Kíli took his brother’s hand.

“You don’t need to hear this. Not until you’re better.”

“But I want to!” Fíli protested. “Was it my fault that you were injured?”

“Of course not!” Kíli exclaimed, raising his hands to shield them from that suggestion. “I … You …” He coughed. “You tried to protect me, actually.”

Dwalin looked curious, nobody had heard that story before. But Fíli sighed.

“You are right,” he admitted softly. “I don’t think I’m ready to hear that.”

Dwalin didn’t appear satisfied, but he nodded. “It was a hard battle. But Thorin is king under the mountain now.”

“And Fíli is doing better every day. His toe’s wiggled this morning.”

“They didn’t wiggle. I made them wiggle,” Fíli corrected him.

Kíli laughed and grabbed the blanket to uncover Fíli’s feet. “Come on, show Dwalin, so he has something to report to Thorin.”

Fíli blushed but demonstrated how he could move his toes. It was barely visible, but Dwalin seemed to understand that it was great progress.

“That’s great, lad. Let’s hope that the …..” He looked at Kíli. “That the King is right, and you’re ready to walk soon. Otherwise, even Bilbo won’t be able to stop Thorin from coming.”

“Why stop him?”

Dwalin grinned. “Your uncle insisted on coming himself, even though Oin didn’t think it was a good idea with his injuries. Our little master burglar has scolded Thorin as if our king was a naughty child. Thorin caved in and stayed in Erebor.”

“Bilbo?”

“Yes.” Dwalin shrugged. “We shouldn’t have been surprised. He’s got guts that one. He returned even after he stole the Arkenstone, didn’t he? He’s still not afraid of Thorin. All of us were willing to let Thorin go; he’s the king after all. But not Bilbo.”

Kíli was eager to know Thorin’s condition; he hadn’t heard what happened to his uncle. But when Dwalin talked about their return, and how it would help Thorin to heal, Kíli looked to Fíli.

“We will only go when Fíli is fully healed.”

Dwalin scowled.

“I thought you will come to Erebor once it is safe for Fíli to travel? Why should he stay with those pointy-eared bastards any longer than he has to.”

“They’re taking good care of us!”

“But they are no dwarves!”

“But they’re the better healers,” Kíli retorted, getting heated. “He needs rest and he gets it here.”

“And what about Erebor? He’s Thorin’s heir; he’s got responsibilities!”

None of the two combatants noticed Fíli flinch.

“His only responsibility at the moment is to heal!” ¨

Fíli sighed. “He might be right, Kíli. If it is that important ….”

“It will be overwhelming if your memories are not back.” Kíli put his hand on Fíli’s shoulder.

“Fíli ….”

“You will be there. It will be ok.” Fíli tried to smile, but all he managed was a twitch of his lips. “Maybe it will even help, you know, to be surrounding by dwarves.”

Dwalin nodded. “And no one will overwhelm him, Kíli. Erebor is big; we can make sure that Fíli will get as much privacy as he needs. But you both belong to Erebor.”

* *

They were interrupted by a soft knock. It was Tauriel. Her face was more mask-like than either Kíli or Fíli had ever seen it. She inclined her head.

“I heard that you entertain a visitor. However, I wanted to ask if there’s anything you need.”

Dwalin crossed his arms and glowered, but Kíli beamed. “Nothing, now that you’re here!”

She dared to show a small smile as she looked from Kíli to Dwalin.

“Your friend Bilbo is still with Thranduil. But he will return to you soon. Your delegation is already in their quarters.” She nodded towards Dwalin. “We found room for both you and the hobbit near here. I hope that is suitable.”

Dwalin hadn’t expected to be addressed by the elf and started. He just nodded, still looking grim. Because Dwalin was sitting in her accustomed chair, she stood next to the foot-end of Fíli’s bed.

“I hope your presence will refresh our two patients,” she continued stiffly, looking from Dwalin to the two young princes.

“It will help with the memories,” Kíli replied and patted the bed next to him. But she ignored the invitation.

“Dinendal expressed that hope as well. I do not mean to disturb. I just wanted to make sure that everything is all right.”

Fíli’s smirk proved that he was well aware that the elf’s chief motivation had been her curiosity. Dwalin grumbled. “Everything is all right.”

“Have you been offered any refreshments?” Serving visitors was not the responsibility of a captain of the guards, but she doubted anyone around here had remembered that courtesy.

“I can refresh myself in my room later. It was more important to see the lads.”

“That is understandable. But maybe you would like a drink? The journey is strenuous.”

Dwalin mumbled something in his beard; that could be interpreted as grudging gratitude.

“We do not have much to offer,” she explained. “We used to receive wine from Esgaroth, which is of course destroyed now. And we do not drink the ale that you appear to love so much.” She smiled ag Kíli, who winked. “I can offer you water, juice or mead.” She looked at the two young dwarves while Dwalin was still working on his answer. “Would you two like a drink as well?”

“I’d like some mead!” Kíli smiled up at her, hope shimmering in his big eyes.

“You two are still healing,” Dwalin intervened before Tauriel could say anything. “No alcohol.”

She looked in the two hopeful faces of the princes, but shook her head, smiling. “Your friend is right. I can ask the healers again, but I believe it would interfere with your potions.”

The brothers' smiles faded. Dwalin smirked.

“Yes, tell them, elf. If you want honey, lads, you’ll get it mixed with milk, to help you sleep.”

Tauriel looked at him, mildly astonished. “Would that help them to sleep? We give honey milk to our children, of course.”

“They’re barely adults anyway,” Dwalin said. Even he had to notice how she looked pained for a split-second. But she regained her composure in an instant. 

“Of course. I will ask for milk with honey. Are you taking the mead, master dwarf?” She inclined her head. “You must excuse my manners. My name is Tauriel.”

Dwalin managed a pained smile. “Dwalin. At your service.”

* *

When Tauriel reappeared with another elf, both carrying trays, Bilbo was also there. This time, Tauriel sat down on the bed to make sure the brothers drank their milk. She was also eager to talk to Kíli in private, but that wasn’t possible at the moment. Bilbo and Dwalin were busy updating Kíli on everything that was going on in the mountain and with their travel companions. Fíli was trying to pay attention, but it was obvious that it was hard for him to follow. 

After a while, Tauriel deemed it time to make herself unpopular. As Bilbo delved into Bofur’s impression of the mines, she lifted her hand.

“I apologize, but I believe Prince Fíli needs a break.” She looked at the princes. “Finish your milk, you two.”

The mugs were half-empty already, and the milk cooled down, so Kíli emptied his in own in one mouthful.

“Finished!” he announced looking proud of himself. Tauriel smiled fondly as she took it. She hadn’t been this domestic in all her life and felt a bit silly when she took Fíli’s mug as well. 

“Do you want any juice now?”

“No, I’m fine.” Kíli yawned.

The friendly elf confused Bilbo. When she asked him if he needed anything else, he shook his head and looked to Dwalin.

“I think we better retire. Fíli and Kíli need their rest.”

Tauriel nodded. Only an elf would have noticed that the way she held her hands was tense.

“Your rooms are ready.”

Dwalin finished his mead and put the mug down with a loud clank. “See you tomorrow, lads.”

* *

Once they were gone, Tauriel breathed out. She had made sure that there was a guard positioned near the room to take the two guests to their rooms. She turned to Kíli.

“Do you want me to leave as well?”

He blinked. “Do I ever?”

She laughed but got up from the bed. She put the two mugs down on the tray. Fíli moaned softly. Kíli immediately scooted up and put his hand on his brother’s forehead.

“Are you all right?”

“Just a headache.”

“We should dim the light, maybe?”

Fíli shook his head, but he placed his arm over his eyes. “It was just too much,” he confessed. “I’m too weak.”

Tauriel just shook her head.

“I will take the trays down to the kitchen now. Fíli, is it okay for you if I come back later?”

He removed his arm and smiled. “Sure. You don’t bother me.”

She laughed as she put the glasses and bottles on a tray. Before she took it up, however, she bent down to kiss Kíli’s hair. His head shot up immediately, but he only managed to kiss her jawline. She already straightened herself.

* *

When she was gone, Kíli smoothed Fíli’s hair. Fíli sighed.

“Dwalin is disappointed with me, isn’t he?”

“No, of course he isn’t.”

“He is.” Fíli insisted. “I know it.”

“Oh? And how?”

“I just do.” Fíli frowned and glared at his brother. “Don’t ask me how.”

“You remember,” Kíli helped him out. “And that’s great! Don’t be disappointed with yourself.”

“I said Dwalin is,” Fíli grumbled, but Kíli just chuckled.

“You have to be patient brother.”

“I’ve got the feeling patience has never been my strength.”

“Well, more yours than mine, usually.”

Fíli sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Kíli settled down next to him. “Let’s sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

“I hope so.” Fíli attempted to smile and closed his eyes. 

* *

They both closed their eyes. But when Tauriel slipped in a little while later, both were immediately alert. She smiled when Kíli stood up and grabbed her hand as if to stop her from leaving again. She put her free hand on his cheek.

“Maybe I better sleep in my room tonight?”

“No. Why?”

“Well, your guests may want breakfast with you tomorrow?”

“Bilbo will knock. Very polite, those hobbits.”

“Yes, but if I’m in the room …..”

Fíli smirked. “Kíli already told him that he intends to marry you.”

She briefly closed her eyes and looked down at Kíli. Her dwarf didn’t look guilty at all.

“Do you think that was wise?”

Kíli grinned. “He didn’t chop off your legs, so that’s good.”

“An encouraging endorsement.” She laughed, but she had no intention of sleeping in her own room anyway. It was amazing how quickly she had gotten used to sleeping in Kíli’s bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the feedback. I appreciate every comment :)


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